Collide
by Miss Barrowmaniac
Summary: After the war is over, Harry has some trouble resuming a normal life, and the only one who can help him is Severus. WARNING: SLASH! It means a romantic/sexual relationship between two men, a gay relationship. Don't like it, don't read it!
1. Part I

**Title: **Collide (1/2)

**Author: **Miss Barrowmaniac

**Pairings: **Harry Potter/Severus Snape

**Disclaimers: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to it. I just have fun playing around with the characters, and do not make any kind of profit from this - except, maybe, improving my writing skills and making friends. So please don't sue me!

**Summary: **After the war is over, Harry has some trouble resuming a normal life, and the only one who can help him is Severus.

**Warnings: **This is a SLASH fic. It means two male characters involved in a romantic/sexual relationship. So if the subject makes you uncomfortable, please don't read this story. Nobody is forcing you, you can always close the tab/window or click on back button on the top of the page. There's no need to leave me any homophobic remarks. Also, though I don't describe it, there's mentions of suicide, and though I'm not sure if it can be considered a trigger, in case it does, here's the heads up.

**Author's Note:** I suppose this is a bit AU - Severus survives the war, and the Epilogue never happens. Other than that, everything is pretty much the same as it was in the books. Also, this will be a two-part story. The second part is ready and I just need to review it, so I should be posting it in a couple of days. Please read and review! I'll never blackmail my readers into reviewing, but it means a lot to know what you think, and it helps me grow as a writer. So please spare a couple of minutes to leave me a message in that little box at the end of the page!

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_**Collide**_

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After the Battle of Hogwarts destroyed the castle, the following school year had to be cancelled in order to rebuild the property, and all of the staff and alumni who had either the physical or financial conditions helped whichever way they could. The work didn't take up a full year, so everybody had exceptionally long summer vacations, though weekly meetings had been arranged by the new Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, so the missing year problem could be assessed.

Severus Snape couldn't wait for that school year to be over: it'd been decided the students would be given extra classes a few nights a week and on weekends, so that they could cover the subject for three years in two, so that in a couple of years, everybody would be in the appropriate school year according to their age; and in the case of those who should be graduating that year and the following, everything else they'd need to know to take their N.E.W.T.s. I would be a nightmare.

During the war days, especially after the second rise of the Dark Lord, July and August were as busy months as the rest of the year for the Potions Professor, between planning the classes, spying both ways, and working missions for both his masters. He never spent too long in the same place, and his own house was practically abandoned through all that. Now he'd been granted an insufferable amount of free time, he'd decided it was more than time to fix the property his parents left him, and had begun living there full time. He was surprised to find how many interesting books there were on the dusty study.

It was a warm night in April, and he was going through a book on healing potions for children - there wasn't anything in it he didn't already know, having worked with the little brats for nearly two decades now, but it was mildly amusing anyway - when an extremely unexpected knock on the door put his still very sharp senses in full alert. For Salazar, who could it be? Nobody even knew where he lived, and the only one who did - and would dare contact him there - was McGonagall, who knew very well the fireplace was enchanted to let her through.

_If it's another one of those muggle vendors, I swear I'll break the Statue of Secrecy_, he thought as he got up. A quick glance on the clock on the wall told him it was already past midnight, which only increased his suspicions, at the same time it left him a little surprised to see how much he'd lost track of time. As he walked to the small hall, the knocks came again, insistent.

_Knock, knock, knock, knock_.

He stood a few steps from the door, hidden in the shadows cast by the light coming in from the other room, wand firmly on his hand. A silent flick opened the door, and Severus didn't know whether to feel angry, surprised or both to see the very familiar figure of Harry Potter standing at his door. Though he looked a lot thinner and more battered than he did in his school days, which was surprising considering he was always a skinny kid in far-too-large clothes.

"Snape?" He called silently, sticking his head inside, trying to see something. "Snape?" He called again, stumbling inside and making it more than obvious he was drunk. It was then when Severus knew exactly what he felt: he was completely furious at Harry, for coming to his house, bothering him that late at night, and even more so for doing it all in that pathetic state.

"Get out." He said authoritatively, stepping into the light, his wand pointed straight at the boy's nose.

"No, please, Snape, talk to me." He begged, standing up straight the best he could.

"Go home to your girlfriend, Potter."

"She's not my girlfriend anymore."

"Then go cry on Weasley's or Granger's shoulder. Good night." He replied, lowering his wand and guiding Harry back towards the door.

"I can't talk to them. They don't understand."

"Then go find someone who does and leave me alone." He insisted.

Harry tried to resist, but Severus had always been stronger, and easily maneuvered him around.

"I already have. You."

"I'm no therapist, Potter." They'd reached the door. "_Good night_." He repeated, closing the door, but the boy put a foot forward, stopping him.

"Please."

"You've been drinking. Go home, sleep it off and you'll be fine."

Severus had never been one to have too much patience, but he knew that raising his voice at that moment would be counter-productive. He'd had to deal with far too many drunk people in his life, both students sneaking out for drinks and fully-grown Death Eaters who didn't know any limits, and had developed quite the ability to handle them. He instinctively knew what was the best approach just judging by their general state, and he was hardly ever wrong.

Besides, since the war ended and it was found out he was still alive, the Ministry had been very decided to throw him in Azkaban, despite the testimonies of his work as a spy. If it hadn't been for Harry's influence - which even Severus had to admit could come in handy, and wasn't something to be lightly dismissed -, they probably would've succeeded. So perhaps it was on his best interest not to piss the little brat off unnecessarily.

"No, I won't. Nothing's fine. The war is over, and everything's still fucked up." Harry insisted, clinging to the older man's arm.

He sighed, opening the door again. "I have a spare room upstairs. We can talk about this tomorrow." He said as he pulled his arm away, pointing to the staircase.

"Let's talk now, Snape, please-"

"That's my offer. Take it or leave it."

"Okay, fine." He mumbled, dragging his feet inside.

"It's that door." Severus indicated, having climbed the stairs behind him. "I trust you're still sober enough to conjure anything you'll need for the night?"

"Yeah, thanks." Harry smiled at him, and it was the first time he ever had, surprising the Potions Master. It reminded him more of Lily's smile than James's, and it was far more pleasant to be at the receiving end of that than Severus would ever admit.

When Harry came down for breakfast the next morning, it was already past ten, and he looked utterly embarrassed, which, of course, pleased Severus very much. But the boy seemed otherwise unaffected by the previous night's excess, and headed quietly to the kitchen to fix himself something to eat before joining Severus in the study. Preventive potions were becoming very popular among young people these days, and they did their job well, avoiding hangovers.

"If you leave now, I'll credit it to the indiscretions of the youth and never mention it again." Severus replied once the boy was finished with his apology. And the Potions Master, enjoying it greatly, gave him plenty of time to make sure he was done.

"You promised we could talk." He insisted.

"I just wanted to get some rest. I said whatever it took to get you to shut up."

"But you promised!" He replied, his tone growing louder.

"What could we possibly talk about?" Severus asked with an eyebrow raised. "Just apologize to the Weasley girl for whatever you did this time and I'm sure she'll be more than glad to take you back."

"I don't want to get back together with Ginny." He said quietly, taking a seat across from the other man. His tone was surprisingly sad, especially considering how much effort Harry had always put into hiding his feelings from that particular man.

"Then pick another girl from the endless line that surely is formed after you."

"I don't want any of them. And they don't really want me either, they want the boy in the posters the Ministry keeps putting up."

Severus sighed, putting down the book he'd been trying to read. "Potter, you knew this was how things would be. This is how they always were. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and move on with your life."

"What can I do, really? I haven't even graduated school." He replied, upset. _Still the boy with no control over his feelings he always was_, Severus thought sarcastically.

"You have two monumental inheritances on your name. Go spend them."

"It's not my money. I didn't earn it. I don't know what image you have of me, Snape, but I believe in earning a living."

"Well, you're Harry Potter. Just ask anyone for a job and they'll be more than glad to give it to you."

"I want to do it by my own merit. Just like everybody else."

"Get real, Potter. You're not and you'll never be like everybody else."

"I know." He replied quietly, and silence fell over them for the next several minutes. "How did you do it?" He asked suddenly.

Severus sighed, looking up from his book again. "Did what, Potter?"

"Live knowing you've killed another person."

"Why are you talking about that?"

"I know he was a monster, and could hardly still be considered a person, but I killed him."

"Nobody blames you for that, Potter. You saved the world." He said sarcastically with a smirk, and Harry smiled weakly.

"I know. And they'll never understand what it's like. My whole life has been about killing Voldemort. What does that make me?"

Snape stared at the boy for long moments. He knew well he was supposed to tell him it was alright, that he did what he had to do, but that was certainly what everybody in the boy's life had been telling him, and it evidently wasn't working on Harry's favor. He dwelled on the decision for another few moments before he decided to speak, looking away from the boy and at the fire crackling in front of them.

"My first kill was a muggle woman. The Dark Lord had sent some of his Death Eaters to capture a group of muggles and bring them to his headquarters. It was sort of a rite of passage. That kind of thing used to be very violent, back in the day. We all had to kill one of them to gain the mark. I thought I was lucky not to be assigned one of the three children they brought. The oldest wasn't more than seven. But as I pointed my wand to her and she started begging for her life, I found out she had a two-year-old at home."

"I'm sorry." He whispered quietly, and it took Severus a moment to chase away the woman's image, still burned into his eyes after all those years.

"I was the same age you were when you killed the Dark Lord." He added quietly, letting his eyes wander from the fire back to Harry. "You killed him, fine. But you've saved thousands, hundreds of thousands of lives. Focus on that."

He nodded, avoiding the black eyes. "Is that what you do?" He asked a few minutes later. "Let all the good you've done soften the bad things?"

"I could spend my whole life doing good and it wouldn't make up for turning that little boy into an orphan, let alone make up for what I did after that." Severus replied seriously in a low voice. "I did it because I could. You did it because you had to."

Harry nodded again, and after a few more quiet minutes, he stood up and headed for the door. He stopped at the threshold, his back turned to the older man. "I think... No matter what terrible things you did, you more than made up for them, all those years risking your life. Thank you for talking to me, Snape." He said before leaving.

Severus sat there for another moment, trying to understand what'd happened. Then he cast a diagnostic spell over himself. He _had_ to have been seriously ill to have spent _any_ amount of time_ talking_ to _Potter_. It had to be Lily's eyes. He could never say no to those eyes.

As he rest his head on his pillow that night, he was very satisfied to believe his interaction with Harry had been a particularly strange dream, and nothing more. And he would've believed that gladly, had Hermione not shown up on his doorstep the next morning, begging him to continue to do whatever he'd been doing to Harry.

A few months after the war ended, once the Ministry allowed him enough room to breathe, Harry had fallen into depression, and a couple of months earlier, he'd taken up drinking heavily. His friends had tried talking to him, helping him the best they could, but Harry categorically refused to let them close, and after they tried an intervention when he was found in an alcoholic coma in an alley in muggle London, he'd begun disappearing for days at a time. The previous day had been the first time in a long while since Hermione and Ron saw Harry sober and, more importantly, smiling again.

So she'd come to ask Severus to keep helping Harry, as he seemed the only one the boy would allow to.

Needless to say, he refused.

And Harry didn't show up for the next few days either, so he forgot all about the matter.

He was starting his preparations for the classes he'd be giving that year - he always preferred to get an early start on that, in case some unexpected event took place, as often happened during the war, not to mention now, with the extra classes they'd be giving, he'd have to completely reorganize his teaching schedule -, when McGonagall stepped through his fireplace, panicking, livid. Harry had tried to kill himself and left _him_, of all people, a note.

Despite his insistent refusal, the older woman dragged him to St. Mungo's, and he was met by a dozen people worried about Harry, all of whom seemed to hold him directly responsible for what had happened. All the Weasleys were there, as well as Hermione, Neville and Luna. They all looked accusingly at him as they stepped sideways, to let Severus closer to the bed. Whatever they expected him to do, he merely stood at the door, his eyes vaguely observing the sleeping boy in the bed, the only other sound being the constant scratching of quill on parchment as a result of a monitoring spell.

"Did he ever mention anything like this to you, Severus?" McGonagall asked after they were informed Harry's condition was stable and he was out of danger.

"No, of course not." He replied, avoiding the many pairs of eyes turned his way.

"Why you, Snape?" The youngest Weasley boy demanded. "He talked to you. What did you tell him?"

"Nothing that would encourage this in any way, Weasley." He replied, his anger ill-contained. "What does the note say?" He asked impatiently. It was obvious that, though the letter was addressed to him, the others wouldn't have respected that. Partially because it was him, but certainly because of the situation they found themselves in.

"He thanked you, and said he wished he was as brave as you." It was Hermione who replied.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know, Weasley, maybe he finally decided to show some appreciation for all I did to save his miserable life and help end the war?"

"We're all very grateful for that, Professor." Hermione smiled at him, and that know-it-all air that was still about her made him even angrier. "But he seemed so much better after you two talked, I can't understand what happened."

"Just ask him when he wakes up, alright? May I go now? I honestly don't see why I should stay any longer."

"I think he'd want to see you when he wakes up, Professor."

"I think he didn't want to wake up, Granger. Excuse me."

Harry woke up the next day and sent for Severus, who was completely unwilling to get any more involved in that mess. As he was under a suicide watch, the boy was forbidden to leave the hospital, but he insisted to every person who came to visit him that he wanted to see Severus, until they all got so fed up they unanimously agreed they'd take the Potions Master to the hospital whether he wanted to go or not. And as it seemed their best alternative, McGonagall volunteered for the task.

One could hardly say they had a conversation, as Severus limited himself to standing in a corner, eyes out the window, doing his best to endure what was turning out to be an incredibly dull speech on Harry's side. When he left the room, he couldn't say he actually knew what the boy had said in the last several minutes.

He would've liked to have considered that a solved matter as he walked out of St. Mungo's, but much for his rage and discontentment, his involvement on the events wasn't yet finished. Though he wasn't too avid a reader of the Prophet - or the Quibbler, for that matter, as the magazine seemed to have gained legions of followers during the war and was currently considered more reliable than the newspaper -, he couldn't help noticing there wasn't a single word on what had happened, and thinking back, neither to Harry's indiscretions. It helped to have influent friends after all.

A week after he'd tried to kill himself, the healers at St. Mungo's considered him healthy enough to be released from the hospital, under the condition that he didn't live alone until further notice, and someone took personal responsibility over him. And to everybody's surprise, Harry refused to leave the hospital with anyone other than Severus. Not that he had any reason to believe the Potions Master would accept his demands, but he threatened to commit suicide again unless Severus took him in.

Evidently, Severus's first reaction was to tell him to stay at St. Mungo's then, if he wasn't willing to accept the help from any of his friends. He could, after all, afford as long a stay at the hospital as his stubbornness required. But the healers insisted he left, in order to properly begin his recovery, and none of his friend thought it healthy for him to remain there after being discharged. So one afternoon, as often happened with Dumbledore, Severus was summoned for a meeting with McGonagall and informed he was, from that moment on, responsible for caring for Harry. And as usual, he didn't have a say in the matter.

Even though, ultimately, he could've put his foot down and refused to comply, a part of him, which he wasn't even properly aware of, knew Harry was all that was left of Lily, and if protecting him was all he could do for her, he would do it. He couldn't save her, but he could save Harry. Wasn't that what he'd done since she'd been killed, after all? And telling himself he was doing it because he'd been ordered to was the perfect excuse to put his conscience at rest.

After all those years working at Hogwarts, Severus managed to save up quite some money, and had bought a little cottage house in the country, where he could be isolated from the rest of the world. The place was even less known than his house in Spinner's End, but McGonagall, knowing of its existence, suggested that perhaps the country air would be good for Harry. So they left the hospital mid-morning, Harry holding the suitcase his friends had put together for him, and Severus side-apparated him to what seemed like a large, empty space covered in grass.

"Where are we?" Harry asked curiously, looking around. He'd expected to find himself standing on Spinner's End, staring at the old door belonging to Severus's house.

"Read and memorize it, then I'll burn it." He heard the man tell him, offering a piece of parchment. "You know how this works."

"O-okay." Harry stuttered, running his eyes a few times through the two lines dashed down in Severus's unmistakable handwriting.

As the boy looked up again, a small house had appeared a few yards away, and they were standing by a low, worn, wooden fence. The entrance, where Severus was waiting for him, was a couple of steps to his left, and he took his time appreciating the view before following the man who'd billowed his cape impatiently and was already headed to the house.

"There's an anti-apparition spell around the property's perimeter." Severus explained as Harry caught up with him. "There are other protective spells around, so in case you want to leave, make sure you've crossed the fence. I won't be hold responsible for the consequences if you don't."

Harry nodded his head, and realizing the man wasn't looking at him, he added, "Yes, sir."

"I have some ground rules for you." The Potions Master continued as he moved his wand in front of the door, undoing the locking charms he always put on the place when he wasn't using it. "First, you will not try to kill yourself again. Not while you're here, at least. Because if you do, I'll personally make sure you succeed. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Also, I have a lot of work to do. I won't always be around, as a matter of fact, I'll probably spend more time away than here. Can I trust you won't destroy the house or go snooping around things that don't concern you?"

Harry nodded as they entered the house. The front door led straight to a living space, with a small fireplace, a couch and some armchairs to one side, the walls covered in book shelves, and the kitchen-dining room to the other.

"That will be your room." Severus pointed to the door on the left. "It's pretty empty right now, so feel free to conjure whatever you need. If you want anything brought from your house, you let me know and I'll arrange it." Another nod. "That door leads to the bathroom, which we'll be forced to share, so make sure to clean after yourself." He was pointing to the door in the middle. "And that's my room. Under no circumstance you are allowed to enter. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll make sure the pantry's always full, but if you want anything special, let me know. And go find something to do, I don't want you sleeping all day. If you're incapable of doing so yourself, I'll be more than glad to assign you some chores."

"Okay. I got it."

"I suppose that would be all for now. Go get settled. Lunch will be served at noon."

Harry nodded again and headed to the room he'd been assigned. Two things surprised him about it: first, the size, as it was a pretty large room, no matter what standards you compared it to; second, it really was mostly empty: there was a bed against one wall, and an old wardrobe on the wall in front of it. And that was all.

The boy smiled to himself, taking a deep breath. He'd never expected the man to agree to that arrangement, and he could barely hold his excitement he was actually there. And it wasn't even the town house, it was somewhere even more private, more special, Severus was sharing with him. He let himself fall on the bed, content, creating a cloud of dust that made him cough for a few moments before laughing again.

After a few minutes staring at the bare ceiling, he sat up again and looked at the wardrobe facing at him. It was made of some very dark wood, with a very simple, geometrical pattern on the doors. Taking out his wand, he pointed it at piece of furniture as he hesitantly opened one door with his free hand. It didn't look like it'd been used much in the past, and seemed quite the ideal place for a boggart to hide in.

The thought of using magic excited him, even if it was for something as silly as getting rid of a boggart. Between attending the millions of events the Ministry demanded his presence at, giving interviews and being assaulted by the mobs every time he stepped outside, he hadn't had a lot of reasons to use magic. And after he'd began drinking, he hadn't had a lot of reasons to do anything at all.

He was a little disappointed to find the wardrobe perfectly empty and clean, when by the looks of it, one would expect at least a nice cover of dust to have accumulated in it. Perhaps it was some spell Snape had put on it, he thought. Maybe he could ask the man about it later; he never knew many household spells, and they were always useful to have stored in your head.

Harry dedicated the next hour to transferring his things from the suitcase to the wardrobe, pulling them out again and refolding them after he realized practically no time at all had passed since he'd started. When he was finally satisfied with the way his things were stored, he put the suitcase under the bed and looked around again, wondering what he could do to make the room cozier.

There were two large windows on adjacent walls, one across the door and one over the bed, which let in quite a lot of light. He made a face when he realized it meant he'd have no choice but to wake up early, with sunlight invading the room. Unless of course he conjured curtains, he thought. Several attempts later, he realized he'd have to study a lot more before his skills went back to what they used to be. Or ask Snape to do it for him, but that option wasn't really an option for him. It was bad enough he'd failed to commit suicide, he didn't want the man to think he was so stupid he couldn't even do that little bit of magic on his own.

When he looked at his watch again, there were only a few minutes to go before noon, so he left his room and, after quickly washing up, he sat at the table Snape had set for them. The smell was divine, and he hadn't realized how hungry he was until he started eating. The meal was silent, and once they were done, Severus announced Harry was in charge on the dishes, and that he would be in his room, not to be bothered, until dinner time.

The following days were rather silent in the little cottage. Severus would leave early, short after breakfast, to his house at Spinner's End - the two were connected through the Floo Network, as Harry would find out -, claiming most of his research material was there, and though the boy wasn't aware of it, most days also included a few hours spent at Hogwarts. Harry knew how to cook the basics from his days at the Dursleys, so he would make himself something quick for lunch, and Severus would be back in time to cook them a proper dinner.

Harry would've liked them to have long talks, or at least short ones, but usually they ate in silence, and right after, the Potions Master would retire himself to his room. His days with the man turned out to be far less exciting than he'd hoped them to, but he was still very happy to just be around. He soon developed his own routine, which included most basic house chores, a lot of reading - he was surprised to find books that were actually interesting and, more than that , that weren't about Potions -, and working on the little garden he found on the backyard. With the guidance of a Herbology textbook, he soon knew exactly the plants that grew there, and what kind of care they required.

"You have your check-up meeting at St. Mungo's tomorrow." Severus said over dinner, two weeks after they'd started living together.

Another condition for his release was that he'd periodically return for check-ups, starting with every two weeks and, should he demonstrate the desirable degree of progress, the time gap between them would grow accordingly. They'd also strongly recommended Harry had therapy sessions for a few months at least, but he absolutely refused to, and being who he was, a point was made it would be unwise for anyone other than those already informed of the situation to know of what had happened. Severus was told to keep an eye on him, though, and at the first sign, that reluctant agreement would be suspended and the boy would immediately sent to a shrink.

"Yeah, right." Harry replied with a weak smile. He'd half forgotten about it, being completely immerse in his new reality. And it scared him a little to go back. He was afraid of what the healers might say, and how it might impact his current living arrangements. He enjoyed it too much to want it to change.

"I suppose it's my responsibility to accompany you, even though I'm rather certain you're perfectly capable of doing so on your own." He continued. "We'll take the fireplace to Spinner's End, and again from there to St. Mungo's."

"Okay. At what time do we leave?"

"Short after breakfast, so be ready."

"I will be, don't worry." He smiled. "Professor?" He called after a few minutes.

Severus raised an eyebrow. Since when did Harry voluntarily called him that? "What is it, Potter?"

"Thank you for everything you're doing for me." He blushed a little as he said that, looking down to his plate.

"In case you've forgotten, I didn't have an opinion on the matter."

"I know, but still... I mean, I suppose if you really didn't want to, you could've just said no, so whatever reason made you agree to this... I just want you to know I truly appreciate it."

"I'm glad to hear it for once." He replied sarcastically.

"You're right. I've never properly thanked you for everything you did for me before. All the times you saved my life."

"I'll say."

"I'm sorry I never gave it its proper value. But I know now how much you had to sacrifice. And I'll be forever grateful to you."

"I understood, Potter. Now can you _please_ let me finish my meal in peace?"

"Yeah, sure." Harry smiled, looking up again and watching the other man for long minutes, until Severus looked up and their eyes met, making the boy blush and look away.

The meeting with the healer didn't take more than ten or fifteen minutes (which enraged Severus very much, as even though it was Harry Potter who needed a consultation, they were made to wait nearly an hour before it, and he had plenty to do other than sit around), and the wizard seemed rather satisfied with the boy's progress, even though he urged the Potions Master to talk to Harry about what he'd done and what led to it. It was an important part of his emotional healing process, the man insisted.

Harry went back to the cottage on his own; Severus insisted he had a lot of work to do at Spinner's End. He walked out of the fireplace and headed to his room to leave the coat the older man had forced him to carry, 'just in case', he'd said. After all the time he'd been living there, it was still spartanly decorated with only its original furniture. After all, it was really only used to sleep in and store his things; he was busy most of the day with the house chores, and should he need any space to study (not that it'd actually crossed his mind), he could always use the dining table. And the couch was far more comfortable to read in than a desk would be.

"Do you want to talk about it, Potter?" Severus offered over dinner that night.

"Talk about what?"

"Your doctor insisted I make you talk about what you did. So I'm offering to listen."

"I... wouldn't know what to say." He admitted, blushing a little.

"I personally thought you'd bring it up when you were ready, or if you ever thought it relevant. But the healer was very... adamant, so I felt compelled to bring it up." He replied, indifferent to Harry's reaction.

"Thanks anyway." The boy smiled, and the older man nodded curtly.

"He also insisted I keep a constant eye on you despite your progress, but that's unnecessary, right?"

"Yeah. I know you have more important things to do." He offered, even though he wished they could spend more time together.

"Good." They spent the next few minutes in silence. "Are you keeping yourself busy? I don't want that stupid idea crossing your mind again." He asked, and though his tone was completely indifferent, matching perfectly his expression, Harry couldn't help feeling happy at what he interpreted as concern about him. Not that Severus would ever admit it.

"Actually, I have. I hope you don't mind, but I've been taking care of your garden. And there are many interesting books around, so you don't have to worry."

"I'm surprised you'd have any interest in books, Potter." He said sarcastically, the corners of his mouth curving slightly upwards. "You never seemed to get along with them when you were at school."

"That's not true!" He complained, smiling. "It's not my fault if textbooks are so boring." He watched the other man arch an eyebrow, and his smile grew. "Well, it's true. It's not like I'm reading your endless collection of books on Potions, I'm limiting myself to the fiction ones."

"You must be a really slow reader, in that case. I don't recall having those many fiction books in my collection."

"I suppose they're not your main choice of reading, but I happen to have found at least a couple dozen of them."

"Really? That's... Peculiar."

Harry giggled. "Peculiar?"

"I do recall buying a few, but certainly not those many. Then again, I don't ever have time for them, so I can't say it's really surprising I'm not aware of their existence. It's good to know they're being put to good use, though."

"They are, don't worry."

After that day, they began talking more often, and occasionally, when the subject was deemed worthy, Severus would postpone his work for another hour or two and they would continue their discussion sitting in front of the fire. Harry's problems were never mentioned, as wasn't the past, be it the war or Severus's years before it; but they found out they had quite a lot in common, considering how different they were. Harry began getting used to the other man's sarcasm, and laughing at his remarks, even when they were about himself; not once since they began living together he felt the rage he constantly did in his school years towards the man.

Once he was through all the fiction books he could find, Harry decided to take a chance on some of the many others around, and the first ones he decided to tackle were the ones on defensive spells, which turned out to be many and greatly interesting. One Sunday afternoon, the first Severus spent at the cottage and, most importantly, not locked away, he mentioned the books, and from then on they began playing mock duels once a week, so Harry could exercise his new spells. And Severus had to admit he enjoyed himself as well; dueling had always been one of his passions, especially now his life didn't depend on it.

"When classes start again, I'll probably spend the week at school. I might return Saturday and Sunday nights, but I'm required to stay there the rest of the time." Severus informed the boy one night over dinner, about a month after they'd moved in together.

"You're kicking me out, then?" He joked with a smile. It'd become a constant expression on Harry's face, and one the older man was learning to thoroughly appreciate. Anyone looking from the outside now would have a hard time believing it was the same kid who tried to take his own life not too long ago.

"You can stay if you want to. I'm just informing you I won't be around a lot, so perhaps you might want to go somewhere you won't be so alone."

"I'm alone all day long anyway." He shrugged.

"Well, you're supposed to be under supervision. For now we can pretend you are, but it'll be more than obvious you're not when classes start. I don't want to be held responsible for your impulsive behavior."

"I won't try to kill myself again." He said seriously.

Though he couldn't quite explain why, Severus believed what the boy was saying. But he wasn't about to let him know that quite yet. "I wouldn't try to stop you if you did. I just don't want anyone blaming _me_ for it, _again_."

"If you don't care what happens to me, why did you even take me in, in the first place?" He replied angrily, standing up. The same explosive temper as ever taking the best of him.

"I didn't have a choice in the matter." He said honestly, unaffected by the outburst.

"You're only following orders, then? You wouldn't care if I'd actually died that day?"

"If you hadn't implied me in your little dramatic performance, no, I wouldn't have, Potter." He stood up as well, getting angry for being yelled at, for having been put in that situation. "But you had to leave _me_ a letter, of all people! You had to drag _me_ into your little mess, it was yet again up to _me_ to clean up after you. You're not a child anymore, Potter! Take some responsibility for yourself!"

He looked at the man with a fire in his eyes that the Potions Master had never seen before, not even when he tried to teach him Occlumency and invaded his private memories. It was entrancing. Mesmerizing. He'd hit a nerve, and they both knew it.

Severus was caught off guard by Harry's lips crashing against his own, rude, angry, as both the boy's hands held his face and pulled him close. It took the man a few moments to understand what was happening, and as soon as he did, he pushed the brunet away a little too roughly, making him stumble a couple of steps back. All he could think of was to get some distance between them; he'd forgotten he didn't need to use so much strength to achieve his purpose. Their eyes met as the kiss was broken, and despite his struggle not to end up on the floor, Harry didn't look away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Severus demanded.

Harry didn't reply. Instead, he turned around and ran out the door, slamming it behind himself. A part of Severus wanted to go after him; it was dark outside, he was just a kid, alone, depressed, angry. But he refused to give it any attention, and decided to head to his lab, to work on some potions whose stocks he still needed to replenish before classes started.

There was a lot going on in the older man's mind. It was easy to cast it aside while he prepared ingredients, but watching potions boil wasn't the most distracting of tasks. He was so lost in thought he almost burned a potion, for perhaps the first time since he started school when he was eleven. After making sure everything was right, he decided to get some sleep, as he knew there'd be people knocking on his door, so to speak, as soon as a devastated Harry showed up for any of his friends.

Instead, none other than Harry himself walked through the door the following morning as he had breakfast.

"You didn't come after me." Was the first thing he said when he saw Severus.

He couldn't help smirking at his disappointed tone. "You're an adult, Potter. You're free to leave whenever you want to."

"So you really don't care?"

"I thought I'd made myself clear last night."

"Can I still stay here?" He asked shyly, sitting at the table across from the other man.

"If you want to." He replied indifferently.

Harry remained in silence, just sitting there, head down.

After several minutes, Severus sighed. "Why don't you go live with one of your friends? They'll be glad to have you, and the distraction will do you good. Maybe while you're at it, you'll figure out what to do with your life."

"They don't understand." He said quietly, his eyes still on the hands playing on his lap.

"Still at it, are we?" He asked sarcastically.

"They think I did it just because I was depressed. That all I have to do is go back and pick up where I left off before the war, and everything will be as it's always been. But I can't do that."

"Why not? It's what everybody else's done."

"My whole life... It's been all about defeating Voldemort. Now I've done it. And what's left for me then?"

"Two inheritances? Family and friends who care about you? Fame and adoration by the masses?" He listed sarcastically. "Isn't that good enough for you Potter? Stop pitying yourself already. You're not doing anybody any favors."

"Well, if you know everything, why don't you tell me what to do next, then?" He asked angrily. After the way he'd been talking, Severus was almost relieved to get some reaction out of him.

"I did. And you won't listen."

"I told you, I can't go back, they don't understand-"

"What? That your life's been dedicated to the war? That everything seems petty if compared to the magnitude of fighting the Dark Lord? That you had to make sacrifices and do things you never thought you would, you never thought you could, to defeat him? Wake up, Potter! We were all there! We all made sacrifices, we all did dubious things. But as always, you think you're so much more special than the rest of us and nobody can understand what poor young Potter had to go through to save us all!" He know he sounded angrier than I actually was, but he couldn't help feeling completely annoyed by the boy's attitude. It was so much like he remembered James Potter behaving the rare times things didn't go his way.

"You understand." He said quietly at last, gaining a confused look. "You're the only one who doesn't treat me with kid gloves. Who talks to me honestly, and doesn't try to protect me."

"Is it so?" He asked, unsure how to react. "Is that why you insisted in living with me?" Harry nodded, and Severus sighed. "Okay, then."

"You were the first person to be honest with me since the war ended."

"Then listen to me, Potter. You have to find something to do with your life. You can't just sit around all day. It will maybe seem petty, and maybe you'll decide to do something completely different within a month's time, but you _have_ to do something."

"Seriously, what can I do? I never graduated from Hogwarts., and virtually every profession requires at least that. And don't tell me to use my name to get accepted. I refuse to do that."

"There must've been at least one moment during it all that you imagined what life could be like, either without or after the Dark Lord."

"I suppose there was." He replied with a faint smile, and the Potions Master was surprised at how relieved he was to see that. After another quiet moment, the boy continued. "I used to dream about being an auror."

"It sounds like you." He joked. "Very well. Try that, then."

"I told you, I needed to have graduated to attend the Auror Academy. And I told you 'm not-"

"Classes start in September, right?" Harry nodded. "Then we'll pull some strings and have them apply special N.E.W.T.s in, say, three months. And don't argue with me, Potter." He interrupted the boy's protest. "All students who should've taken their N.E.W.T.s last year were granted special exams earlier this year. It would be a small favor to ask them to let you take yours in a few months. Then if your grades qualify you for the Academy, great, if they don't, you go find something else to do."

"Except there's no way I can learn all I need to know in a single month."

"What subjects do you need? Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions, correct?" He nodded. "Except for Potions, I believe _something_ must've penetrated your thick skull during all those years at school." He said sarcastically, and instead of getting angry as he once would've, Harry smiled. "I'll help you reviewing, and I'll teach you what you need to know about Potions. It shouldn't be too hard, now that you no longer need Exceeds Expectations on all of them to join the office."

"Why would you?"

"I'd like my life back as soon as possible, and this seems to be the only way I'll achieve that." Even Severus believed the truth of his words then, but Harry smiled as if he could see through the man, making him uncomfortable.

"Thank you, Snape."

For the following months, they spent long hours every day on the many textbooks Severus borrowed from the Hogwarts library, alternated with equally long hours practicing the theoretical knowledge. Now that he didn't put all his energy into hating the professor, Harry got in touch with the talents he inherited from Lily and quickly progressed in Potions.

After all that, Severus didn't doubt Harry would pass his N.E.W.T.s with flying colors, even though the boy wasn't too sure of that himself. The results arrived by owl just over two weeks before classes were supposed to start, and with grades varying from Outstanding to Exceeds Expectations, Severus had him pull a few strings to extend the applying period for Auror Academy, to which he was promptly accepted.

"Thank you for everything you've done." Harry said one afternoon. He was sitting on the couch with a book, and the other man was working at the dining table, lots of books and parchment spread around him. After spending so long working so closely together, it became sort of a habit to keep each other company. "I wouldn't have managed without your help."

"It's good to be appreciated for once." He replied sarcastically, not looking away from his work, and Harry smiled.

"There's... there's something I'd like to talk to you about." He said quietly, and Severus knew immediately what it was about.

"You were upset. You acted on an impulse. There's nothing more to it." He said conclusively, still refusing to look up, but no longer paying any attention to what he was doing, the quill suspended half-way to the page.

"No. There _is_ more to it, and I need to talk to you about it." Harry's tone was serious, and he stood up, his eyes fixed on the other man, walking slowly to where he was.

"Look, Potter-" He tried, his eyes meeting the green ones.

"Just listen to me, okay? Then you can shut me off or kick me out or do whatever you want to." He asked, and Severus waited in silence for what he had to say next. "When I... Kissed you, I was way out of line. I know that, and I apologize for it. But it's allowed me to come to terms with my feelings, and you're too important for me not to be honest about it. I... I'm in love with you, Snape."

"I'm sure you're just confused, Potter." He said, dismissing the boy. It was easier that way.

"No, I'm no-"

"Now _you_ listen to what I have to say." The Potions Master interrupted the protest. "For nearly five months now, I've been practically the only person you've had contact with. I knew I should've forced you to at least visit your friends; clearly it would've been the best for you. But it's not important now. Soon you'll be at the Academy, around plenty of people your own age, and it'll all go away. So let's just pretend this conversation never happened, alright?"

"If that's what you want. But know it won't change how I feel. I don't expect you to care about me, I'm not much of anything, really, but it's important for me that you know how I feel."

"Don't talk about yourself like that, Potter." He asked quietly. That pattern was way too familiar for him to watch in silence. "You're a great man. And in a few weeks, you'll meet some young woman who sees that, and you'll be very happy together."

"Thanks." He said with a shy smile. "But I don't want some young woman. I want you." Severus rolled his eyes, and the boy giggled. "And going to the Academy won't change that, you'll see." His tone was almost a challenge, and it made the older man laugh softly, disbelieving.

It didn't take long for them to adjust to their new routines. Everything that Harry needed bought for the Academy, Snape's house-elf was glad to purchase for him - the boy wasn't interested in the least in being stopped every two steps to be congratulated or thanked, and in all honesty, he'd never been too fond of shopping anyway. He decided to keep living in the cottage while he studied, even though a dormitory in the academy grounds was offered to its students; he knew that if he did so, Severus would feel obligated to return at least once a week, if anything else to, as he put it, make sure the place hadn't been destroyed yet.

So every morning Harry took the Floo to Spinner's End - Severus refused to connect it anywhere other than his old house, his office at Hogwarts and the Headmistress's office, the latter to be used exclusively at emergency situations -, and from there to the academy. Classes went on usually until four or five in the afternoon, and then he'd return to the cottage, make himself something to eat - he rather thought he was getting good at that, and the thought of cooking a meal to Severus even crossed his mind once or twice -, where he'd spend most of the evening working on the day's assignments.

As most professors, Severus had moved back to the school when classes started, and he stayed there during the week, and one night every weekend he'd sleep at the cottage, after making dinner for them, as he didn't want to risk being poisoned by Harry's "atrocious cooking skills".

It was obvious all his school activities were draining Harry, especially after spending a whole year doing nothing of the sort, so about a month after classes started, Severus decided to take him out for dinner. It would be good for the boy to go somewhere other than the academy, and to eat something different. They meant to go somewhere more creative, but ended up in the Leaky Caldron, as it seemed the most convenient place and, now that Tom had hired a new cook to work for him, rumor had it the food standard had come up quite a bit. They weren't disappointed. So much so that they seldom dared not to have at least one of their weekend dinners at the place.

As October approached, the temperatures dropped rather quickly, catching many students by surprise, and leading a fair amount of them to Madam Pomfrey for a dose of Pepper-Up Potion. Harry, exhausted, also began feeling a few of the symptoms, and though he tried to hide them from Severus and pretend he was fine, the Potions Master wasn't fooled and pulled two small bottles from a cabinet in his room, which had vanished any traces of flu by the following morning.

October also meant Halloween, and as the party would take place on a weekend, the two most likely wouldn't meet for another week. So Harry decided to accept the invitation one of his new colleagues had made for a costume party, and was more than delighted to meet Ron and Hermione there as well - it seemed somebody's girlfriend worked with Hermione in the Ministry and had invited them as well. He was offered a vast assortment of drinks, some colorful, some smoking (literally), and some doing things he'd never imagined a drink could do, but he declined all of them. He knew alcohol had influenced strongly his past actions, and didn't want to risk a relapse. But he had a great time catching up with his best friends, and it was nearly morning by the time he returned to the cottage, so exhausted he passed out in the couch, not bothering to make it to his own bed.

As for Severus, Halloween had always been a complicated date. His memories of it growing up weren't exactly the best, and having his only friend murdered on that day didn't make matters any better. And to top it all off, there was the annual Halloween Party at Hogwarts, when he was made to supervise the students pretending to be grown-ups, and using it as excuse to all sorts of inconsequent behavior. At least it was a night he got to assign more detentions and take more points than usual.

But every year, usually about an hour before the party started, he'd leave the school for an undeferrable commitment.

It was always quiet at Godric's Hollow, when he visited. Usually the weather had already turned, and occasionally the first snow of the season had already fallen. The town became much quieter after its constant involvement in wars, but it didn't feel as much abandoned as it feels solemn, in memory of those who perished there.

Severus would always stop by the statue of the Potters on his way to the graveyard; it was one of the few images he had of Lily to look at.

As the years passed, a sort of ritual formed for those occasions. After a few minutes admiring the memorial, he'd head to the graveyard, passing by a small flower shop on his way - he'd never dare to conjure the flowers he offered her; he always thought she deserved better than that. When there was snow on the grave, he'd brush it away before arranging the flowers over it. Then he'd talk to her, hoping somehow his words could reach her, wherever she might be.

"Hello, old friend. Another year has gone by without you. You'll be glad to know your son is safe. It seems he's had some problems since the war ended, but I put him back on the right track. Funny how it seems it's always up to me to do that. But I suppose now, even more than before, that burden falls to me. With Black and Lupin gone, and Dumbledore... I suppose I'm the next best thing. And I promise you, I'll keep him safe, always."

He smiled, weakly tracing her name with the tip of his finger.

"Something happened, Lily. It would infuriate Potter, for which alone I'd like to tell you. But I suppose as his mother, you'd like to know either way. He kissed me. Harry kissed me. Of course I'm not letting it go any further; I promised you I'd protect him, even if it means from myself. He says he's in love with me. I wish you were here to put some sense into his head, as I seem unable to do it myself. It'll go away in time, I suppose.

"I don't think it helps much that he's been living full time in my house, even if he spends most of the day away. He's training to be an auror, you know. I'm sure you'd all be very proud of him; I'm reluctant to say, but I am as well. I'm sure in no time he'll meet someone adequate for him, and will have forgotten all about me. But I must confess it hasn't been as horrible as I imagined to have him around. He has a lot more of you in him than I ever gave him credit for."

The sun was setting in the clear sky, bathing everything in golden colors, and he took a moment to wander his eyes around, memories flooding his mind. Then he took a quick glance at his watch before turning back to the grave.

"That's my cue, Lily. Time to go again. Don't you worry. Your son is safe. And as for me... Life must go on, mustn't it?"

It was always very comforting to talk to her, even though she would never reply. He'd found it out the first time he visited the grave, a few days after the funeral. He wouldn't risk being among dozens of aurors; he'd probably be killed and her death would've been even more in vain. But devastated as he was, he felt a little better after sobbing over the cold stone.

He had to limit himself to two visits a year, as it was incredibly risky to be seen in the town during the war, and otherwise he'd easily waste his life sitting by her. And the habit carried on after the first war was over, and through the second war. He'd go to her every year on her birthday and the anniversary of her death.

Always carrying lilies.


	2. Part II

**Title: **Collide (2/2)

**Author: **Miss Barrowmaniac

**Pairings: **Harry Potter/Severus Snape

**Disclaimers: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to it. I just have fun playing around with the characters, and do not make any kind of profit from this - except, maybe, improving my writing skills and making friends. So please don't sue me!

**Summary: **After the war is over, Harry has some trouble resuming a normal life, and the only one who can help him is Severus.

**Warnings: **This is a SLASH fic. It means two male characters involved in a romantic/sexual relationship. So if the subject makes you uncomfortable, please don't read this story. Nobody is forcing you, you can always close the tab/window or click on back button on the top of the page. There's no need to leave me any homophobic remarks. Also, though I don't describe it, there's mentions of suicide, and though I'm not sure if it can be considered a trigger, in case it does, here's the heads up.

**Author's Note:** I suppose this is a bit AU - Severus survives the war, and the Epilogue never happens. Other than that, everything is pretty much the same as it was in the books. Also, this will be a two-part story. The second part is ready and I just need to review it, so I should be posting it in a couple of days. Please read and review! I'll never blackmail my readers into reviewing, but it means a lot to know what you think, and it helps me grow as a writer. So please spare a couple of minutes to leave me a message in that little box at the end of the page!

* * *

_**Collide**_

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As the weeks went by, Harry and Severus grew closer, despite all the latter's reluctance. It was rather inevitable, as they went out every weekend and talked for at least a couple of hours over meals, a conversation which often carried on to the cottage's living area, where the younger man acquired quite the taste for Elf-made Wine.

It was early November when Severus came home with news to shake things up a bit, and just to tease Harry the way he still absolutely loved to, as soon as he arrived at the cottage, he announced he had something to discuss with the auror-in-training, and for most of the night, kept changing the subject skillfully every time the boy brought it up.

"Okay, fine. You know what? I don't care what it is. You don't want to tell me, I won't ask again." Harry complained at last, sitting on an armchair by the fire, his arms crossed over his chest, making the older man laugh.

"You really, really shouldn't make it so amusing for people to provoke you, Potter." He replied after a few moments, still smiling at the cross glances the other kept shooting at him. "Okay, alright, I think you deserve to hear it. Your patience did last a lot longer than I believed it would."

"So what is it?" He tried to sound uninterested, but the shadow of a smile was already spreading through his lips.

"I've been talking to some acquaintances, and have acquired the information that, on Sunday mornings and afternoons, there is an amateur Quidditch team that practices not too far from here. As I know of your great interest in the sport, I assumed, should you not be too exhausted from your ordinary activities, you would like to join them?"

"An amateur team?" He frowned for a moment, curious and excited with the perspective to play the game on a weekly basis again.

"Yes, Potter. Are you going deaf?" He asked, one eyebrow raised, but a soft smile on his lips. "It means the players don't get paid to play, and the team isn't a part of any important league."

"I know what amateur means." He complained.

Severus ignored his reply and continued his explanation."I assume there is some sort of organization that controls such groups, and arranges for them to play against each other every so often, but it's mainly composed of people who either weren't good enough to make it into an actual team or who, like you, chose to have it as a hobby and is otherwise professionally engaged. I don't suppose it'll be much of a challenge for you, given your abilities, but I believe it would be pleasant to engage in a different activity than those you're accustomed to."

"It sounds brilliant." He replied, smiling widely. "Do you really think they'll let me join them?"

"Despite the fact that you are who you are and hence would be promptly admitted to any sort of organization you'd be interested in joining," Harry made a face at him, "they have an open-doors policy. Anyone interested can be a part of the team. Which evidently doesn't mean will _play_ in the main team, but will be welcome to practice with the others."

"It's been so long since I last played Quidditch!" He said nostalgically, letting his eyes wander away from the black tunnels for a moment, memories returning to him. "I think it was... last Christmas at the Burrow. I remember it started snowing heavily, and we had to stop. Though it can't really be considered Quidditch what we play there." He looked back at Severus with a smile. "At what time do they start? And where is it, exactly?"

They spent the next several minutes between explanations and confirmations, and after the older man made sure the boy knew where to go come the morning, he excused himself back to his chambers at Hogwarts; with the stress levels rising because of the upcoming exams, some first-years had been having recurring nightmares, and he would rather be at the school to help them through it.

Harry was so excited he couldn't sleep. Before he went to bed, he separated his things, the clothes he'd be wearing, his old Firebolt, now rather outdated. He then laid in bed for hours, rolling from one side to the other, his mind racing through the plays and the strategy he still remembered, even though it all seemed to have happened in a different lifetime. And it had, he thought to himself, a shudder going through his body. He'd rather not think about that. He was happy with his current life, and wouldn't let anything get in his way.

He rested for about an hour that night, in two naps of half an hour each, and though he looked rather tired when he faced the mirror the next morning, the excitement that kept him from sleeping was still strong in his chest. After making sure he looked just right, he stepped outside the cottage, cast the protections charms - they only activated automatically when he left through the fireplace -, and walked to the small fence, looking around the snow-covered ground all around him. Despite the cold and the white coating of snow, the sun was shining brightly on the sky, and Harry smiled as the thought that soon he'd be walking around in puddles of mud crossed his mind.

He stepped out of the property and, with a silent touch of his wand to his head, he cast a disillusionment charm over himself before mounting his broom. He kicked it up and a huge smile immediately spread through his face; he'd forgotten just how happy flying made him. He did a few loops and dives over the cottage, getting used to his broom once again, before heading the way Severus had pointed him. He said to go on for a few miles, and it shouldn't be hard to find a group of typically-dressed witches and wizards holding brooms.

For the first few minutes after he introduced himself, there was an awkward feeling in the air, as everybody in the group recognized him, reminding him exactly why he'd been avoiding all unnecessary human contact. But then the team captain arrived, saying Severus had mentioned something about him showing up and, after introducing everyone - they'd been too star-struck to even do that -, he started practice.

Though he was out of shape - as far as Quidditch went, at least, as he had plenty of physical exercise in the Academy -, he soon caught up with the rest of the team, his natural skills surfacing once again. They all claimed him to be the best player among them when they made a break for lunch, and though he blushed and denied, he knew it was true. As most of people either worked, studied, or both, during the week, they didn't want to waste any time if they could help it, so they always had collective picnics in the same place they practiced and, after taking a short rest, they carried on in the until the sun began setting on the horizon.

"Okay, everybody! That's it for today!" Parks, the team captain, called, and they all landed in a semi-circle around him. "Great job, everyone. And especially, our new addition, Mr. Potter. I've heard stories you had talent for the game, but figured they were just rumors when you weren't hired by any team after the war." Some smiled and some chuckled, and Harry just stood there uncomfortably, trying to pretend they weren't talking about him. After everything he'd gone through, he still didn't like being in the spotlight. "Can we count on you for practice next week?"

"Yes, sir." He replied, smiling and drying some of the sweat dripping from his forehead on his sleeve. "I really enjoyed it. Thank you for allowing me to join you."

"Oh, it's our pleasure, boy." He laughed easily as he patted Harry's back. "Who knows, maybe now we might actually win more games than we lose." They all laughed, and the boy smiled nervously. "Well, then, you're all dismissed!"

After that, people began leaving in small groups, and Harry waved back at a few of them as he slowly walked in the direction he knew the cottage stood. After most had gone, and he was a fair distance from the ones remaining, he once again made himself invisible and flew his way back.

That night, over dinner (which they chose to have in the cottage, as Harry was completely exhausted and napping on the couch when Severus arrived), the boy couldn't talk of anything else, narrating every last detail of his first practice session. The Potions Master was happy for him, but once they got to dessert and he still hadn't changed the topic, the man threatened to kick him out of the house if he didn't shut up, and was starting to regret his decision to introduce Harry to the team.

"I'm sorry." Harry apologized with a smile, playing with the pudding in his plate. "I guess I'm a little overexcited."

"I have deducted that much, Potter." He replied in his best bored tone.

"You're not really interested in Quidditch, are you? How come?"

"I fail to understand what could possibly be so amusing about observing a group of people flying around chasing after balls."

"It's exciting! You know, when they get intercepted, and there are so many fabulous plays and- Sorry. I'm doing it again, aren't I?" The other man just nodded curtly. "But you understand it though, don't you? I do remember you refereeing one match, back in my first year, I think."

"Just because I have no appreciation for the sport, it doesn't mean I don't know its rules." He replied quietly, standing up and leaving his dish in the sink. "I'll be returning to the school now. Is there anything you need?" Harry shook his head. "Very well. Make sure you rest properly tonight, as I'm sure you didn't last night." He advised, walking to the fireplace. "I don't want to be bothered by some desperate wizard rushing into my office because the Golden Boy passed out in the middle of the class."

Harry laughed, but the older man was already gone.

As the holidays came around, the boy wasn't short of invitations for dinners and parties. Those who didn't know him very well, wanted to showcase his presence at their sumptuous parties, as did the Ministry, and as had happened the year before, he merely sent them a short note apologizing for his absence as he already had "previous commitments for the dates in question". But for his close friends, who knew what happened earlier in the year, it was an opportunity to both check up on him and make sure he wouldn't be alone and end up depressed, as typically Christmas is a holiday for the family.

An unexpected invitation also came through the means of Severus: McGonagall had asked him to extend to Harry her invitation for him to join them at Hogwarts for the celebrations. The school had been his first home, and he had happy memories of the time he spent there - getting his father's cloak and discovering the mirror of Erised, finishing the Polyjuice potion that would allow him to catch Malfoy and get him expelled, gaining his Firebolt and, to a certain extent, the Yule Ball for the Triwizard Tournament. But he also had invitations from the Weasleys, and except for the year they were on the run, he'd always spent the holiday with the redheads. He was feeling a little divided.

"I suggest you go to the Burrow." Severus said quietly as Harry exposed him his doubts over dinner one night. "It'll be good for you to see your friends again, and it'll make that bunch happy. I keep insisting you should see at least Weasley and Granger more often, but you stubbornly refuse to leave the house if it's not in my company - except for classes, evidently."

"I know they'd like it, but I'm not sure I'm in the mood to be around so many people. Not to mention they'll be over-worrying about me, and I can't stand that. It'll drive me crazy before the night ends." He half-joked with a smile.

"You don't suppose it'll be any better at Hogwarts, do you? If that's the case, I must warn you that an exceptionally high number of students signed up to stay this year, as many have become war orphans and would rather remain in the school than return to wherever they live during the summer, most likely some orphanage. And they'll be smothering you with their awe and curiosity over the _savior of the wizarding world_ more than the Weasleys could."

Harry giggled. He loved the sarcastic way the other man always said that expression; he was probably the only one who didn't take it seriously. "I suppose you're right. Can't I stay at the cottage instead, then?"

"Even _I_ know better than to allow you to be alone during these particular holidays, Potter. It would be rather inevitable for you to become depressed once again, and we've all seen what happens when you're in that particular state of mind."

"I won't do anything!" He protested half-heartedly. He already knew any argument would be useless.

"I most certainly am not willing to take that chance."

"I guess I'll owl Mrs. Weasley, then. Not that she'd need the heads up, I'm sure she'll be cooking enough food for a whole week anyway." He joked, and a half-smile appeared in the Potions Master's lips.

"She'll be glad to hear it. And do tell Molly I forbid her to send too much food when you come back - actually, make that any food, so perhaps we'll manage to go through it all before it goes bad."

"Couldn't you put a spell on it or something? I think I saw her doing it once." He frowned, trying to recover the memory.

Severus shook his head. "I don't like the way it tastes after that."

"So you'd rather throw food away?" He teased with an arched eyebrow.

"No, I'd rather you stop being so awfully polite to her and refuse to bring more food than we can consume."

"We?" He asked surprised.

"Well, it _is_ my house after all, Potter."

"But I assumed you'd be staying at Hogwarts all the time."

"I'll be there during the day. As far as I remember there was still a meal to be consumed after the sun set, wasn't there?"

Harry giggled. "Yeah. I'll be happy to see you around more."

"Who said anything about seeing me? You should know I'll have plenty of work to be done-"

"I'll pretend to believe you." He teased, gaining a frown. "Dessert?" He offered, signaling to the waiter.

The Burrow was more of a mess than it usually was. Not only the Weasleys - and their respective partners - were there, but also the Lovegoods, Teddy and Andromeda, and Neville and his grandmother. They'd all grown close because of the war, and since the other three families consisted only of two members each, Molly was more than satisfied to have them join her own.

Truth be told, most of the guests would've probably have preferred the party had been held elsewhere, as there was barely enough space for them to move around anywhere. Some ended up sitting on the stairs - which meant frequently standing up to get out of the way, which in turn meant nobody stayed there for long -, others walked outside - and though the cool breeze was refreshing at first, after fifteen or twenty minutes it became more uncomfortable than anyone was willing to stand - until the adults had had enough drinks to feel loose and managed to convince Molly to let them cast enlarging spells on the living room and kitchen, so they could all stand comfortably inside, many sitting in chairs transfigured from all sorts of things they found around the house.

"How are you, Harry?" Ginny asked with a shy smile. Being a year younger than him, she'd been forced to return to Hogwarts when the school reopened, and given he'd done his best to isolate himself since he left the hospital, the two hadn't had the chance to catch up.

"I'm great, actually." He replied honestly. "How's Hogwarts? Boring classes as always?"

"You bet. Even worse now, with all the extra classes... I mean, my year didn't really need them, as we had just one school year missing, but it seems we can forget a whole lot in a year. And considering we'll be taking our N.E.W.T.s at the end of next term, they're giving us extra lessons to make sure we do well."

"Sounds like a lot of hard work." He commented, inching away from the girl inching closer to him in the couch.

"You took yours earlier, didn't you? I suppose you did well, Ron told me you're attending Auror Academy."

"Yeah, Snape helped me with them, and I managed to get the grades I needed." He smiled again, this time more uncomfortably. He kept his eyes on hers, but could see her hand moving closer to him.

"It must be lonely living with him, since he's at school all the time."

"Actually, he comes back on weekends. And besides, I'm always so busy with the lessons and assignments, I never have time to notice."

"But certainly you miss having someone to talk to, don't you?"

"We talk, you know. A lot, actually."

"You and Snape?" She snorted, and Harry frowned a little. "What could the greasy git have to say that would be remotely interesting?"

"For your information, Ginny," he replied standing up, "we discuss a vast array of subjects, all of them rather amusing."

"I'm sorry, Harry." She offered quickly, also standing, but it was easy to tell she didn't mean it. "I don't know what you see in him, but it clearly upset you. But that's not what I meant." She continued with a smile, leaning on him, one hand resting on his shoulder as she whispered in his ear. "I meant a different kind of company."

"I appreciate your offer, but I'm not interested." He replied coolly, stepping back.

"Come on, Harry. Everybody knows we're perfect together. We had some problems, sure, and then you had... your thing, but now we're good again, and you must agree we belong together."

"No, Ginny. I don't agree, and honestly, I don't care what everybody thinks." He began losing his temper, his face was becoming flushed and he grabbed the hand she insisted on keeping on his shoulder, holding the wrist probably with a little more strength than needed. "I'll let you in on a secret." His voice was low and menacing. "I'm interested in somebody, and it's not you."

Harry turned around and left the room, feeling the pressing need for some fresh air. That was exactly why he hadn't want to come. He knew everybody expected him to get back with the redhead, now he was deemed healthy by the healers at St. Mungo's, and for them to get married in a few years, have children and perpetuate the name. If only they knew who he was really in love with.

He was still fuming when Luna came out of the house, dreamingly looking at the sky.

"I love to see the stars, don't you, Harry?"

"What?" He replied, confused, being pulled out of his thoughts.

"The stars. I love it when the sky is clear."

"Yeah, it's very nice, Luna." He said uninterested, forcing a smile. He wanted to be left alone, and began thinking what excuses he could use to achieve that without being overly rude to the girl.

"It makes you feel really small. Mommy loved the sky too. I remember we used to lay in the grass in the summer, and she'd tell me all about the constellations."

"It sounds very nice."

"You look out of place here. Who you really want to be with is not here, is it? Maybe you should go see them. After all, Christmas is the time to be with those we love, even if we can't be with them and with our family at the same time." She said quietly before walking away.

How did she know? Had Ginny told her? They were friends, it was true, but were they that close? And judging by the redhead's reaction, Harry would've thought she would want to keep that information as secretly as she could, and perhaps even continue with the illusion they could be together. But perhaps Luna had been right. He loved the Weasleys, and all the others who were there, but he wasn't feeling very happy being at the Burrow. His mind kept drifting back to a certain man in black, who would undoubtedly be looking very grumpy and frowning at the children he was being forced to share the table with.

He started walking back to the house, to let the hosts know he was leaving early, but as he approached the kitchen door, he overheard a bit of conversation.

"Have you seen Harry, dear?" He heard Molly ask.

"He's had a bit of an emergency." Came Luna's reply.

"What happened? Is he okay? Is there anything we can do?"

"Oh, don't worry, Mrs. Weasley. It was nothing serious, but it had to be resolved at once. And there was only one person who could help, and seeing as they're not here at the moment, Harry had to leave."

The brunet smiled at himself, walking away again. Luna had some strange ideas sometimes, but somehow she always knew what to say.

As soon as he could, Harry apparated back to Spinner's End, from where he took the fireplace to Hogwarts. To his surprise, he arrived directly in Snape's office, where he'd been several times before, and as the memories flashed past his mind, he shuddered briefly. Shaking his head, he walked out into the hallway, looking curiously from one side to the other to acknowledge everything was just as he remember them being.

As he climbed up the stairs, the noise of people chatting became louder, and the delicious smell of the Christmas banquet had him discover he was hungrier than he realized. He took a deep breath before slowly opening the doors to the Great Hall, knowing all eyes would instantly turn to him. The children's faces beamed as he was recognized, and McGonagall stood up at once, smiling, as he stepped in.

"I'm very glad to have you join us, Potter." She greeted him, walking his way. The other professors also seemed happy to see him, except for Severus, who looked rather puzzled.

"Thank you for the invitation, Professor. I'm sorry I didn't let you know I was coming beforehand. It was a bit of a last-minute decision." He explained surprised as she hugged him.

"Oh, never mind that, boy. Come, join us at the table." She invited, and the children all tried to move to the sides to make room for him. Instead, he found a vacant spot beside Severus, and took it.

"I'm sorry I'm late as well. I had to at least go by the Burrow, I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, of course. Please, help yourself to the food." She smiled and he nodded, reaching for the glass that had appeared in front of him and the jar of pumpkin juice.

"What happened? I thought we agreed you'd be at the Weasley's tonight?" Severus asked in a whisper.

"A friend gave me a bit of advice." He replied simply, before turning to his other side to talk to the young boy blushing beside him.

It was true there were many more students there than Harry ever remembered seeing during Winter Break. Sometimes when he was at the cottage, he could almost pretend the war hadn't happened, but it broke his heart to see how many had lost their families, to one side or the other. As he talked to the children and learned their names, he found some of them had very well-known Death Eaters for parents, and must've been pretty young when they became orphans, from what he could remember of the news. Hopefully they didn't have time to be infected with that nasty ideology, he thought to himself as he retold for the hundredth time the same anecdote of his own schooldays.

"Will you be staying at the castle tonight?" Harry asked Severus as they walked out of the Hall, once dinner was finished.

"I'm not sure yet." He replied quietly, and before Harry could say anything else, they heard footsteps approaching rapidly.

"Ah, Potter, I'm so glad you haven't left yet." McGonagall told him, slightly out of breath. "The children loved to have you around, and begged me to invite you to stay the night and join us tomorrow for Christmas lunch."

"It's very kind of you, Professor." He replied with a slightly embarrassed smile.

"I understand if you already have other plans, of course." She added, noticing his discomfort.

Harry looked from her to Severus, and back to her, making his decision. "Actually, if it's not too much trouble, I'd be honored to accept."

"Oh, really? The students will love it!" She chuckled, excited. "You have no idea how good this is for their spirits, having to spend Christmas, of all holidays, on their own. Would you like me to have the elves set you a room? Or perhaps you'd like to relieve the old days and take one of the empty beds at the Gryffindor Tower? I'm positive none of the Gryffindors left would object."

"I suppose it's highly unusual, but I think I'd like to go back to the dorm. It's been quite some time."

"Very well, then." She smiled, satisfied.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure nobody goes to bed too late." He half-joked, knowing that, if he allowed it, the kids would have him up all night telling stories.

"You had better, Mr. Potter." She replied with her best authoritative voice, making him cower a little, surprised. Then she smiled again. "Good to know I still have such an effect on you." She said before heading to the Grand Staircase.

"I'm surprised you still have any patience left for those dunderheads after what they just put you through. Especially taking into consideration your remark on not being too willing to handle people at the moment." Severus said casually, and Harry smiled, somehow knowing the man was rather curious about his reasons. And only because the Potions Master refused to see what was right in front of his eyes.

"It wasn't as terrible as I expected. And my friend was right."

"What did they say to turn your plans so suddenly?"

"Wouldn't you like to know..." He teased before running off to the stairs laughing, leaving the other man to frown after him.

He woke up with every Gryffindor, boys and girls alike, gathered around his bed. He'd chosen the only empty dorm, the one belonging to the current sixth-years, where he knew he'd have some privacy, but it didn't occur to him he'd have to lock the door. He wasn't even sure that could be done. For a moment after he opened his eyes, he felt very confused, the memories taking some time to return. He reached out a hand and grabbed the glasses he'd left on the bedside table, getting a hold of his wand as the world came into focus.

"Uh, good morning." He said quietly, slightly uncomfortable.

"Good morning, Harry!" They chorused happily, making him giggle.

"We brought your presents up for you." One of the older boys said with a wide smile.

"Er, thanks, I guess." He smiled back, sitting up, and added in a whisper, "I didn't expect to get any this year. Not here, at least."

"Why not?" A first year girl asked curiously, her head slightly bent.

"Hm? Oh, because I didn't tell anyone I was coming here. They expected me to be elsewhere, so if anything, I'd expect my presents to be sent there instead."

"Where should you be?" He heard a voice whose owner he couldn't find, as the small child was hidden behind the first layer of students around him.

"At the Burrow, er, that's my friend's Ron's place. Well, his parent's actually, but they always have the parties there." He explained.

"And why aren't you there now?" Came another voice.

"I have my reasons." He replied with a mysterious smile, and heard some older students say 'ooh!', guessing what were his most likely motives. "Er, if you guys don't mind, do you think I could get to the bathroom? I mean..." He looked down at his watch, and his eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. "It'll soon be lunchtime, and I'm still in my PJs."

Some of them laughed, and they all moved away from the bed, allowing him to see the pile of presents on the foot of his bed.

"But I wanted to see what he got!" He heard one of them cry.

"I'll tell you what, then." He said as he stood up, went around the bed and crouched in front of the packages, looking for a specific one. "I'll open one now, and then we'll all go down for lunch, okay?"

All faces lit up, nodding. He picked a slightly large, but relatively light package, and smiled, recognizing it. It was the one he wanted, as there was no risk of it being anything improper or embarrassing. As he ripped the wrapping paper, a scarlet, hand-knitted sweater appeared, with a large golden snitch drawn on the front. Some of the students giggled, and he put it in front of him, holding it against his shoulders.

"So, what you think? Does it suit me?" He asked playfully. Some nodded, afraid to be honest, and others shook their heads, laughing. "I think I'll wear it for lunch today." He thought out loud. "Very well, then! All of you, out!" He asked smiling, and waited until the last one of them had left before closing the door and heading for the bathroom.

He sighed as he saw his reflection on the mirror, and conjured a toothbrush as he thought of the kids downstairs. It was rather exhausting, having them all over him, as if they were twenty Colin Creeveys of different ages, all looking up at him as if he wasn't just a few years older than them. Then he stopped for a moment, thinking of Colin, and shook his head to get the thought out of his mind. He'd better hurry, or he'd be told off for being late.

He transfigured his pajamas back into his normal clothes and pulled the Weasley sweater over his head before heading to the Common Room, where everybody was anxiously waiting for him. He made his way to the Great Hall being flooded with questions whose answers he'd never thought about - which he liked better, mornings or nights, or what kinds of stories did he like best, muggle or wizard -, and there was some discussion over where he would seat - the students from the other houses claimed the Gryffindors already had him all for themselves during the night, so it was their turn, and the little lions claimed Harry was one of them, so he should be among his own -, which gained the students several reproaching looks from Severus, and some frowns from McGonagall.

"No, listen, guys, I think I'll sit over there with the professors, okay? There's some stuff I want to talk to them about."

"Has it got to do with your training?" A Gryffindor boy asked.

"What training?" A curious Slytherin immediately replied.

"Auror training, you idiot!" The same boy answered, and they exchanged angry looks.

"Hey, guys, no need to fight, okay?" Harry asked nervously, though by now most of the staff was rather amused by the sight of the boy trying to juggle the students they had to deal with all year long. "Yes, it has to do with my training. And yes, I'm currently attending Auror Academy. But I do believe the professors are anxious to start their meals, so why don't we all get seated so we can get to that?"

After a few minutes, they all managed to find places to seat around the large table set up in the middle of the room. Though there were many students this season, as had happened the night before, in honor of the Christmas spirit, they were all around a single table. This time around, Harry chose to be between McGonagall and Flitwick, and they discussed magical theory for most of the meal, engaged in subjects that didn't normally come up at the school.

It was nearly four in the afternoon when Harry managed to leave Hogwarts, as the students kept coming up with questions and wouldn't let him leave. He was very relieved to arrive at the cottage, and threw himself on the couch with a sigh, almost immediately falling asleep. When Severus arrived, a couple of hours later, he was not-very-gently waken by the older man.

"I thought I made it clear I don't want you sleeping all day if you're to live in my house, Potter." He said loud enough to pull Harry from his nap, and the boy nearly jumped out of the couch, surprised, making the older man laugh.

"It was a particularly exhausting day, if you'll excuse me." He complained once he recovered from the fright, walking to the kitchen where the Potions Master was getting started with their supper. "Need help with anything?" He offered.

"I'd rather not be poisoned, Potter, thank you."

"You say that every time. You should really let me prove to you I can - sort of - cook, you know." He sat on the small dining table, his feet dangling softly and watching the man's back. Unlike the first few times, there was no trace of irritation on his voice; it had become a mere formality between them.

"Maybe some other time."

"A time you won't be joining me for dinner?" He joked with a smile.

"Sounds perfect."

Harry chuckled, and they remained in silence for several minutes, until the boy decided to start setting the table, and the soft clicking of the dishes filled the room, complimenting the low boiling sounds coming from the stove.

"Why did you come to Hogwarts after all?" He pretended to be uninterested, but Harry couldn't help smiling to himself.

"I told you. I was following a friend's advice."

"And you'll keep refusing to tell me what it was?" He continued, his back still turned to the boy.

"Yes, I am."

"Are you going to tell me who it was from, then?"

"Nope."

"Did anything happen at that party that changed your mind?"

"You seem awfully interested on the subject, you know." He teased.

"I'm just trying to make conversation. You seem to enjoy it quite a lot most of the time, and seeing it is, after all, still Christmas, I thought I'd make an effort."

"I'll pretend to believe you." He mumbled with a smile. "But actually, something did happen. Maybe I would've stayed at the Burrow either way, but..." And he proceeded to tell him about his little interaction with Ginny, which had him more altered than he expected, and the subject carried on through dinner, with them eventually expanding the discussion from the youngest Weasley to the rest of Harry's friends.

"Then show them you're a different person, Potter." Severus concluded, standing up and taking his plate to the sink. "Stop hiding, or they'll keep thinking you're the same boy from before."

"I know it's probably what I should do. But I can't stand it when they start talking about the me they think I am, it drives me crazy." He smiled, doing the same.

"Well, that's not my problem." He heard the Potions Master say before leaving for his room.

Harry just shook his head slightly, smiling, as he turned back to the sink and started tackling the dirty dishes the Muggle way. He'd in fact learned the spell needed for the dishes to do themselves, but he felt there was something soothing about performing that task without the aid of magic. On occasion.

Though Severus spent the day at Hogwarts, for the remainder of the Winter Break, he returned to the cottage in the evenings, and they even went out for dinner a few times. Harry spent New Year's at Hogwarts again, to the student's joy, and though the celebrations went well into the night, he decided not to sleep over at the castle. He planned to have lunch with the Weasleys on the first day of the year, as he had already turned down the previous night's feast and the Christmas meals.

He arrived at the Burrow around eleven - after he'd slept in and took a very lazy shower -, and was greeted by everyone in the overcrowded house, except Ginny, before he offered his services to Molly in the kitchen. He was readily put to work beside Ron and Hermione, and the three spent the next hour or so talking as they used to back in their school days.

"Where did you go on Christmas Eve, Harry, dear?" They heard Molly ask at some point, looking at him from over her shoulder for a moment before turning back to her pans. "Luna told me you had to leave, but wouldn't tell me where. And as you never came around the next day-"

"Thank you for sending me my presents, Mrs. Weasley." He remembered suddenly. "And thank you for the new sweater."

"Oh, it's nothing, dear. I'm just glad there were some other owls around to help, you had quite a few things sent to you this year."

"Indeed." He smiled, remembering the pile of presents at the foot of his bed.

He'd opened them all once he returned to the dorm after lunch, and after making sure they were safe, and seeing they were mostly from fans who knew nothing about his interests and insisted in sending him useless things, he distributed most of what he got among the children left in the castle. The only things he kept were the ones he got from his friends: the sweater and sweets he received from Molly, the book about advanced defensive spells Hermione got him, the one about Quidditch - and the Chudley Cannons, in particular - from Ron, the box of tricks from George, the cake from Hagrid, something he couldn't recognize from Luna, yet another book, from Neville, and most importantly, the advanced potions set Severus had got him. His most prized possession at the moment.

"But where were you, mate? I was really surprised to know you'd just disappeared without saying anything."

"Oh, er, there was just something I had to do. I'm really sorry for leaving so suddenly, Mrs. Weasley." He added, looking up to her.

"It's because of Ginny, isn't it?" Ron insisted. "I sort of saw her coming on to you, even when you tried to retreat. I think she still thinks you'll get back together or something."

"You don't plan to, ever, Harry?" Hermione asked curiously.

"No, I don't." He said firmly. "And you're right, Ron, she was trying to convince me otherwise. But don't worry, I made my intentions very clear."

"It's better that way, then." Molly, who'd been listening quietly, replied. "As long as you're not leading her on, you're entitled to do whatever make you happiest, dear."

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley." His face turned a light shade of pink. It hadn't occurred to him it might upset the rest of the family that he'd been so straight forward with the redhead girl.

"Which still doesn't tell us where you went, you know." She smiled at him, and he blushed harder.

"I... I just... Er..." He wondered why he was so hesitant to admit he'd gone to Hogwarts, but in the end, he didn't have to. A loud explosion came from the living room, followed by screams and laughter, and the four of them rushed to see what was happening.

Apparently, George had grown tired of Percy's uptightness, and played a prank on him, which had him currently very trapped inside the armchair he'd been previously sitting on, his hair turned purple, his robes, lime green, and his face painted as a clown. The loud sound of the transformations had scared most of the people who, upon realizing what had happened, started to laugh at the situation.

"George! For Merlin's sake, we're about to have lunch!" Molly complained, rushing back to her pans.

Harry stayed a moment longer, bent forward with laughter and fighting to breathe again. When he straightened up again, his eyes met Ginny's , and the girl sent him a look so filled with anger he thought it best to retreat back to the kitchen as well.

"Oh, no, dear, you don't have to." Molly said as he sat back on the table, picking up the knife he'd been working with. "You've helped enough already. I've got it covered from here." She smiled, but he didn't move. The thought of returning to the other room wasn't the most appealing at the moment. "Go on, now. Shoosh!"

He smiled back before leaving the room. But instead of staying in the living room where the others were far too entertained watching Percy trying to get rid of his new look - which was only causing it to get worse, as his hair now also flashed streaks of neon yellow, and bright orange and pink polka dots had appeared on his robes -, he walked outside for a bit of fresh air.

Harry walked to the fence and sat on it, his eyes vaguely scanning the landscape. After a couple of minutes, he felt something heavy being put around his shoulders, and as he looked around, he saw Hermione trying to dress him in his own coat, which he'd forgotten to take with him. He gratefully put it on, as the cold wind that started blowing would otherwise soon freeze him down to his bones, and she crept up the fence to sit beside him.

"Is there anything you want to tell me, Harry?" She asked after a few moments.

"What? Er, I don't think so, why?"

"Hogwarts."

"What?"

"You went to Hogwarts, didn't you? On Christmas Eve."

"Yeah, well... Yeah, I did." He admitted, avoiding his eyes.

"Because of Snape, isn't it?"

"What? How did you - Why are you-"

"It's a bit obvious, really." She said with a smile and a small shrug. "When we were talking earlier. Every other thing you said involved his name. I don't suppose Ron noticed, but Mrs. Weasley certainly did."

He sighed, dropping his shoulders. "I suppose you're right." He said quietly.

"Is it because of him that you don't want to get back with Ginny?"

"No." He replied almost instantly. "I mean, even without him, I wouldn't get back with her. I couldn't. But he did play a big part in making me realize that."

"Harry, don't you think this has gone far enough?"

"What do you mean?" He frowned at her, suspicions rising at her tone.

She bit her lower lip before speaking, which made Harry dislike even more whatever it was she had to say. "I know Snape's a very... admirable man, especially after everything he's done for the war. And I understand he exerts a certain... fascination in you, being the only link left to your parents, but-"

"Hermione." His voice was low, and he tried very hard not to sound too menacing. "It has nothing to do with my parents. I -" He hesitated for a moment before making up his mind. "I'm in love with him."

"Are you sure?" She asked, and he nodded vehemently. "Harry, are you sure you're not just misjudging your own feelings? Especially after all that's happened, you know..." Even after so long, everybody other than Severus still refused to even say the word 'suicide' anywhere around him, let alone discuss it with him. "I mean, you almost died because of him!"

"I didn't almost die because of him." He replied angrily. "I nearly killed myself, and it had nothing to do with him."

"But the letter-"

"He helped me understand some things I was feeling. And then I realized I couldn't live with myself anymore, not after being such a coward."

"You weren't a coward, Harry, you were so brave-"

"We're not talking about the same thing here, Hermione. I'm not talking about the war. I'm talking about what I did after. And-"

"The war was hard on all of us, it was just your way of coping-"

"It was my way of _not_ coping, you mean."

"Even so... It was only after you talked to him that you..."

"It was after I talked to him that I decided to be a bit braver and get it done with. Because I was already killing myself, Hermione. It was only a matter of time before all that booze got me killed."

"We could've helped you, if only-"

"No, you couldn't. And you still can't, if you keep thinking you know better about my own life than I do." He jumped off the fence and headed back inside the house, ignoring the girl calling his name.

"Ah, just in time!" Molly smiled as he entered, and he forced himself to return it. "Come on, everybody else is already around the table." She pointed to the back door in the kitchen. This time, they'd reasonably decided to set up a large table in the backyard instead of trying to cram everyone inside and ending up with some people around the kitchen table, some eating in the couch and armchairs, and some crumpled in the stairs.

Harry sat between Charlie and Mr. Weasley, and the three spent most of the meal discussing Quidditch, to his relief. The sun was already setting when they finally left the table, and Harry decided it was time to go home. He could most definitely use some alone time with himself.

As the holidays ended, they were forced back into their old routine. Harry was relieved to have something to take his mind off the problems he was having with his friends, and it was very motivating having his dinner dates - let Snape hear him say that, and he'd be dead, he thought with a smile - to look forward to. As for Severus, the quickly approaching exams were increasing the pressure not only on the students, but on the staff as well, and unfortunately for his pupils, his mood was suffering greatly with it. He never realized how much he needed a way to unwind until he started going out with Harry, for once managing to get his mind off his work for a few hours.

Harry's first Quidditch game was scheduled for a Sunday morning in the last weekend of January, and though he wished Snape could be there to watch him, he still had a blast. Though he'd never admit it, he let the snitch slip a couple of times to make the match last longer, as he spotted it within ten minutes of the beginning, and then again fifteen minutes later. Eventually, he grabbed it and the whole team went down to a nearby village to celebrate their victory over lunch.

Between studying and practicing for one, and trying not to go insane at last with the increasing stupidity of his dunderhead students, for the other, the rest of the winter and the whole of spring went by without them really noticing it. They'd discussed their summer plans a few times - as usual, Severus would be planning classes, and had already warned Harry he wouldn't get any more attention than he usually did, suggesting perhaps the boy could take a few weeks to visit friends, and Harry affirmed he planned to stay put, as he still had his weekly Quidditch practices, and would rather not go into confrontations with his friends again.

"You do know that unless you talk properly to them and work out your issues, it'll never get any better, don't you ?" Severus arched an eyebrow. It was the fourth or fifth time Harry used that excuse to justify staying in the cottage.

"I know, but-"

"Then stop stalling and go talk to them. Don't make me kick you out." His voice was serious, but there was a shadow of a smile in his lips.

"Okay, I promise I'll talk to them, alright?"

Severus looked intently at him for another few seconds before turning his attention back to his dinner, missing the smile that spread through Harry's lips.

As summer came and the temperatures rose, neither man could be happier to be a wizard as they cast Cooling Spells all over the cottage. The sun shone mercilessly over their heads, and none of them was willing to give as much as a step outside the deliciously chilly rooms. Harry had taken to caring for the garden after the sun had gone down, often after dinner, in order to avoid the sun. Severus spent most of his days either locked in his room, sitting at the dining table with books spread all over it, or gone, the younger man supposed, at Spinner's End or at Hogwarts.

Harry was, of course, right, as much of his research material couldn't be found at the cottage. Some of the potions he'd been developing had been progressing well, and he needed rather rare books to consult on the little obstacles he ran into. Apart from that, there were the school matters that he, as Deputy Headmaster, was in charge of, which meant he was often sitting in the Headmistress's office with McGonagall, going over student files and an abundant amount of paperwork he'd hoped he'd never have to encounter again when he stepped down from his position as Headmaster.

"What are you doing to the boy, Severus?" She asked one afternoon, as each of them went through a different set of documents.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Harry Potter. What exactly are you doing to him?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Minerva." He insisted, knowing very well they both knew it was a lie.

"It's evident the boy harbors feelings towards you. And judging by his behavior, you haven't given him any definitive position on the matter."

"I believe that's between the two of us?" He shifted uncomfortably on the chair. _What happened to privacy?_, he wondered.

"I'm just concerned for Potter. He has a bad emotional history, which I'm certain you're well-aware of, and I don't think it'd be good to lead him on if you have no intention of taking your relationship to the next level. Well, worse than it would be for most other people, that is."

"If you must know, I've already addressed the matter with him. If he wants to keep feeding his feelings, it's none of my concern."

"I deduct from your reply that you have no intentions of getting involved with him?" He nodded curtly. "And yet, your behavior says otherwise."

"How so?"

"Even after he's been admitted to the Academy, he is still living at your house."

"Which only happened in the first place under your orders."

"You don't truly believe that, do you, Severus? We both knew it was just a convenient excuse; I don't actually have any jurisdiction over that aspect of your life."

He opened his mouth to argue, but changed his mind. After all, what could he say?

"You always returns home on weekends. And you haven't spent a single night in the castle during Winter Break. That's not your usual behavior."

"I like to make sure my house is still standing. I can't take it for granted anymore, not with such an impulsive child living there."

"And Tom tells me the two of you go there for dinner nearly every week."

"I never thought you were one for gossip, Minerva." He said sarcastically.

"He seemed concerned about it. When you're usually so reserved."

"He stays in the house all week. I figured it'd be nice to go out every now and then." Severus replied defensively. It didn't take a genius to see where that conversation was headed, and he wasn't interested in reaching the inevitable conclusion.

"Severus, I don't oppose any sort of relationship between the two of you. You are both adults, and otherwise unengaged. I just urge you to be careful, and be honest with him as well as with yourself."

"He's a _child_, Minerva. I'm quite literally old enough to be his father."

"You wouldn't be the first to cross such an age gap. You shouldn't do it if you don't want to, of course, but be honest. And if your feelings for him are somehow because of Lily Evans-"

"She's got nothing to do with it." He said firmly. "And there are no feelings to be discussed."

"Alright." She sighed. "Just make sure Potter knows it as well."

Up to that point, he'd credited his actions to pure habit; after living together for five months, it seemed natural to keep letting Harry live at the cottage, or to keep each other company over occasional meals. But after it'd been pointed out to him, it was really very distant from his usual behavior.

If he didn't know any better, he would've said they were dating.

Which sounded nothing short of absurd.

And it was time to confront Harry about it. He was fine now, with a career ahead of him, and even an amateur Quidditch team to practice with on weekends. He could handle moving back to his own house.

But of course he wouldn't take the news quietly.

"Why? I'm not giving you any trouble. I clean after myself, and I look after the house while you're at Hogwarts. And we're even having _fun_ together!"

"And it's time to move on, Potter. You're fine now, go live your own life. Go be a kid, learn to live on your own and drink too much on the weekends, betting with your friends who can have more shots before passing out. Pick up girls whose names you won't remember the next day."

"I don't want to do any of it. Why can't you understand it? I'm exactly where I want to be. With you! After a whole year at the Academy, my feelings for you haven't changed one bit. If anything, they've gotten stronger. And they won't change. So if you'd just give me a change -"

"I don't know where from you got the idea we could work together, but here's some news for you: we're too different, too far apart to even consider a relationship between us."

"Why? Because you're older than me? Because I'm famous and everybody still thinks you're evil? Because I'm a fucked up kid? I know I'm not the best you could possibly get, but-"

"Of course you are." He mumbled to himself, but Harry heard and stopped talking, his eyes watching Severus closely. "You're better than I can get, actually." He eventually continued. "And that's exactly the point. You can do so much better than an old, damaged spy, Potter. I know that, and so does everybody else except you. So even if I wanted to, I'm not going to destroy your life by weighing you down. Accept it and move on."

It was only at that moment he realized just how much they boy had come to mean to him. He wasn't all that was left of Lily anymore. He was the person Severus had been sharing his life with. And for a former spy who hadn't had a proper friend since he drove away the only one he ever had, all the way back in his school years, it was a very big deal.

"Well, here's something for _you_ to accept." Harry said after a few moments, his voice back to its normal volume_**. **_"I'm in love with you. Nothing you can say will change that. And regardless what you think, being with you won't weigh me down." With each sentence, he gave a step forward, getting closer and closer to the Potions Master. "You're the one I want, Snape. And you're as good as they get." He whispered the last part; now they were just a few inches apart and Severus's mind was unusually blurry. He couldn't move away. He realized he didn't want to.

So they kissed, passionately, but not gently, trying to absorb as much of each other as they could as fast as they could. When Severus woke up the next morning, it took him a moment to remember what had happened. He was torn between erasing both their memories, kicking Harry out, and disappearing himself. But then Harry rolled in his sleep, throwing one arm over his naked chest, and smiling to find him there. And he didn't have the courage to do any of it.

The Potions Master watched the other man sleep for a long time before Harry woke up, smiling at him and crawling up to kiss his lips softly.

"Good morning." He whispered contently, stretching his arms.

"Good afternoon." Severus replied, uneasy.

"Afternoon already? I didn't realize I'd slept so much."

"It's just past noon, actually." He kept watching Harry, and when their eyes met, the other man smiled again.

"I think I'm going to take a shower. Care to join me?" He offered, a naughty look about him.

"No, thank you." He shook his head and replied quietly.

"Your loss." Harry joked, jumping off the bed.

Severus laid there until he heard the shower being turned on and the boy begin singing some song out of tune. It seemed his head cleared when Harry wasn't around, and he suddenly realized exactly the gravity of what he had done. A part of him insisted it had been absolutely wonderful, and he'd done no harm at all as it was more than evident Harry was as happy as he could be. But another part insisted he'd slept with a child, that he had no right to do that, and that he ought to make sure it never happened again.

And he couldn't help agreeing with the part of him that advocated the end of their relationship, of any relationship between them. The part that advised him to protect his heart, because surely enough, even if they got together, Harry would soon tire of him and would leave him miserable behind. Because he could. Because he should.

So while the boy was still in the shower, he walked into the second bedroom and magically packed all Harry's things into the battered suitcase he found under the bed. He raided the house to make sure nothing was left behind and took the suitcase to the living area, leaving it by the fireplace. He was putting a definitive end to things right away.

Harry was smiling as he left the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Severus's mind went fuzzy for a moment as he took in the sight, as the younger man walked up to him and kissed his lips slowly. He couldn't help kissing back, and it took him a full minute to regain control over his own body and push Harry away.

"What?" The boy asked, still smiling. The water dripping from his hair was making its way down his naked torso, and Severus couldn't help following one of the drops down. "Oh... Maybe you think I'm too dressed, then..." He whispered teasingly, his hands reaching the towel to get rid of it.

"No." He replied, turning his back. "That's not it. You have to leave."

"Wait, what?"

"You have to leave, Potter. Go find somewhere else to live. I'm kicking you out."

"What?" He repeated for the third time. "Why?"

"I... I can't do this. I _won't_ do this. And the only way to make sure it never happens again is for you to leave this house. You've stayed long enough, you're in perfect health now, so I no longer have to stand you in my home."

"Why are you doing this?" He cried, frustrated.

"I don't need to explain anything to you. I'm in my right as-"

"That's bullshit and you know it." He interrupted angrily. "I know why you're doing this."

"Then there's no need to ask. I left your things by the fireplace, get dressed and-"

"You're afraid." He said quietly, working hard to remain under control.

"Afraid of what, Potter?" Severus tried to sound sarcastic, but they both knew he'd failed.

"Of getting involved. Of getting hurt."

"What I'm afraid of is going insane with all your nonsense. I have a lot of work to do, so if you don't mind-"

"I do mind. I don't want to leave. I want to be with you. I told you that a million times. Just as I told you I'm in love with you. And I'll tell you something else. I love you, Snape."

"You're surely misinterpreting your feelings, Potter. You're too young-"

"I'm not too young. I know exactly what I'm feeling, and I dare say you feel it as well. But you're too scared to admit, so you're pushing me away hoping it'll make it go away. Well, I have some news for you. It won't."

"How very smart of you, Potter. Seems you have it all sorted out." He tried to be cold, but his lips were pursed with anger. "Now leave my house."

"No." He said defiantly.

"It's my house. I'm telling you to leave. Don't make me force you."

"If you want me to leave, you'll have to."

"Fine. You asked for it."

Before Harry could react, Severus had drawn his wand and pointed it at him, immobilizing him. The older man walked with heavy steps towards the fireplace, got a handful of Floo Powder and threw it into the fire. He kicked the suitcase in, cramming himself as well as Harry in the small space, before calling out his destination.

"Spinner's End!"

A moment later, they walked into the study of Severus's townhouse. The process was repeated, except this time Harry went alone and back to Grimmauld Place. He was released from the magical binds as soon as he arrived in the old house, the towel he was wearing falling off him. With no care to his dress situation, he tried returning, but found the fireplace closed to him. He tried the cottage, but he knew that one only accepted people either from Spinner's End or from Hogwarts. Frustrated, he swept the portraits on the mantelpiece, breaking the glasses, before sitting down on the couch and starting to cry.

Why did Snape have to be so stubborn? Why did he have to fall for the one person who wouldn't have him? Why... There were so many questions in his head, most of which he knew the answer to, but didn't want to admit. He knew exactly what Severus's reasons were. He knew what would happen if they got together. He knew how hard it would be, especially for the Potions Master. But after the night they spent together, he was convinced they could do it, that they were both willing to take a chance on themselves. Seems he was wrong after all.

He cried himself to sleep, forgetting he was still undressed. The sun was already setting when he woke up, chills going down his spine as the temperature had dropped considerably. He kicked his trunk open and picked out the first clothes he found, putting them on carelessly and heading to the kitchen. He rummaged the cabinets in search of some food to calm his roaring stomach, but couldn't find anything. With a sigh, he tried to think what to do next.

He could always go out to eat, but the last thing he wanted to do was see anyone, which also ruled out visiting any of his friends. He didn't want to stay in that house either - too many bad memories -, but he didn't really have anywhere else to go. Just the thought of having to find a place to live was exhausting. He let himself fall on one of the chairs and rested his head on his hand, his elbow on the table. The only sound interrupting the oppressing silence was his stomach pleading for food, and though it'd started to hurt already, he didn't have enough motivation to do anything about it.

There was a cracking sound that made Harry jump off his seat and look around.

"Kreacher is sorry, master Potter. Kreacher had not realized you would be coming here today."

"It's alright. I wasn't planning to, anyway."

"Is there anything master Potter needs Kreacher to do?"

"Actually... Do you think you could bring me something to eat? I know there's nothing around here, but I'm starving."

"Right away, master Potter."

He was gone with another crack, and soon was back again, with a tray full of deliciously-smelling food. Harry attacked the plate as if he hadn't seen food for days, pushing it down with some cold pumpkin juice. Once he'd finished dessert, he thanked the house-elf, who looked awkwardly at him, and dismissed him before heading back to the living room. He had no desire of using any of the bedrooms upstairs, and instead chose to use that room to sleep in.

After his long nap, he was feeling very alert, and thoughts began returning to him. For a few blessed minutes, he'd forgotten all about being kicked out by the man he loved and with whom he's just slept, about the fact they would hardly meet again, as Harry was sure all his attempts would prove unfruitful, or that he was now on his own once more. His mind immediately turned to the bottles he knew were hidden in the cabinet on one of the corners of the room, and without thinking about it, he grabbed the nearest one.

It was still half-full of Firewhisky, from the last time he'd been there drinking. It seemed like a lifetime ago, when his life was that messed up. The intoxicating smell of alcohol filled his nostrils as he opened it, and he was about to drink the first gulp straight from the bottle when he stopped, realizing he didn't want to do that. He was extremely upset, and he hurt like hell inside, but he didn't want to forget why. He didn't want to be so drunk he wouldn't know he was, because he liked who he was now.

And from deep inside him came a desire to prove to Severus he could do it on his own, that he could be an adult fit for a relationship, and that he wouldn't relapse into old habits whenever things went wrong. He didn't want to waste everything Severus had done for him, everything he'd never be able to do for himself.

He closed the bottle again and put it down before lying on his back, one arm covering his eyes. He sighed. When had he changed so much?

The abrupt end of their relationship wasn't easy on Severus either. He became grumpier than ever, and even the staff was afraid of crossing paths with him. He would've given detentions to a few of them if he could've, and taken points. He was certain it would make him feel a lot better. And he had to constantly remind himself he'd done the right thing. That it was for the best, for both of them, and that he'd be betraying Lily had he chosen otherwise.

In the end, Harry decided to stay at Grimmauld Place, not feeling in the mood to look for a place of his own. Sirius had left it for him anyway. After a couple of weeks, he'd gone visit Ron and Hermione at the Burrow, and some of his other friends. He couldn't seem to pay any attention to what they were saying, but if he was honest with himself, it did make him feel better to leave the house.

Harry wanted to be an adult about his situation with Severus and accept the man's decision, but he couldn't stand the thought of not fighting for him, of letting him go that easily when he knew for a fact the Potions Master had feelings for him, even if they weren't as intense as his own for the man. He tried sending letters, Floo-calling and even knocking on his door at Spinner's End, but there was no reply. He still practiced Quidditch not too far from the cottage, and on the last weekend of August, feeling particularly brave after his performance during practice, he decided to try knocking on that door.

He knew instantly that the place was empty. He'd flown his way there, and saw from the air that the garden was abandoned, completely dry. He landed just before the fence and pushed it open, walking slowly to the house. There was dust on the windows, both doors were locked and there was no light inside. Even when they were both out, the fireplace was always lit. There was no shadow of a fire anywhere.

The return of classes was very welcomed by both men. It provided them with a lot of distraction, forcing their minds off one another for most of the day. Harry spent most of his first month back at the Academy trying to focus on what mattered, but his mind constantly turned to the Potions Master, which meant he got his attention called several times and went home with enough extra work to fill his every spare moment for the next two or three weeks. The friends he'd made there - who weren't really his friends, though they gladly called themselves that - constantly asked him what was wrong and offered to help, but he refused to talk about it. Not that he talked about much else either; their conversation was about as interesting as the classes he had to attend, when compared to the single thought constantly hovering over his head.

As October came, a new spark of hope lit up in Harry's chest. He received a letter from McGonagall inviting him to the Halloween Feast, seeing how much the students had appreciated his presence during the Winter Holidays. Usually only the students and staff were permitted in the party, but of course an exception was being made from him - and for once, he didn't mind it. He'd have a chance to see Severus again, and this time the man couldn't escape.

There was only one curious detail at the bottom of his invitation. Costumes were mandatory.

* * *

There was no discussion of any sort between Severus and McGonagall. The Headmistress informed the staff that year's Halloween feast would be a costume party, Severus stated he refused to dress up, she replied it was mandatory, he replied he refused to comply. Costumes became optional for the staff.

As it was traditional for him, a while before the party was due to start, he left Hogwarts and apparated in Godric's Hollow. He stopped at the statue for a few minutes, bought flowers and headed for the church's graveyard.

"Hello again, Lily. It's funny how time goes by so quickly. A year ago I was here telling you how I helped Harry find his way again; now I'm the one who needs help. He insists on his feelings for me, and it's obvious for anyone with a pair of working eyes to see. Minerva has confronted me on the subject, and the more I think about it, the more I become aware of my own feelings. I feel like I betrayed you, even more so for not being able to control it. What I felt for you for so long I now feel for him.

"Before you come back to haunt me, know I have no intentions of acting on it. Not any more than I already have, that is. I never could. He's just a child, and worse, your child. But he's as stubborn as Potter always was, and it pains me to see how hurt he is every time I shut him off. I've been avoiding him to the best of my abilities, but it's not very easy. It's my curse, I suppose. To always love those I will never have."

He took a step back to analyze the flower arrangement, and then back forward to adjust a rebellious flower.

"I wish you could-"

His sharp spy senses detected an unusual sound to his left, and he immediately silenced, drawing his wand. Whoever it was, was still far, but definitely approaching. He waited anxiously, partially concealed by the grave. A few moments later, a faceless figured appeared, clearly not on guard.

"Who's there?" He demanded loudly, his wand pointed straight at the person, spells lining up in his head.

"It's just me." Came the reply, and he loosened his grip as he recognized the voice.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" He put his wand away.

"Looking for you." Harry replied quietly, now close enough for them to see each other clearly.

"Why?"

"I heard this year's Halloween party required costumes, and thought I'd drop by to see yours." He giggled.

"You're wasting your time. That requirement is only for students. How did you know I was here?"

"It's a shame, though. I would've loved to see what you'd pick. And McGonagall told me. Though I should've figured it out by myself." He was smiling as he leaned on the grave. "You're the one who leaves the flowers, then."

"You come visit often?"

"Not nearly as much as I'd like."

"Anyway, I'm done here. Good night, Potter."

Severus apparated without waiting for a reply. Harry sighed, looking at the grave and the carefully arranged flowers on it. He thought about running after the Potions Master right away, but he'd see the man in a short time anyway, so instead he decided not to waste the visit to his parents.

"Hi mom. Hi dad. It's been a while since I last came, hasn't it? I know I should come more often, but things have been a bit of a mess in my life lately. I'm in love, you know. With probably the only person in the world who'll never love me back. Or at least, who'll never give me a chance. I know you'd freak out, dad, but Snape is a really nice guy, once you get to know him. He was mom's friend, and I know she wouldn't befriend any idiot. After all, she did turn you down for years, didn't she?" He smiled weakly. "But I suppose he's doing the honorable thing. Hermione agrees with him. Not that I've told her what happened, but she doesn't think he's right for me. I think she's the only one who knows, so far. But all the Weasleys would have me admitted back in St. Mungo's if I ever told them. They're suppose to want my happiness, aren't they? Above all else? That's what you two would want for me too, isn't it? I hope my being happy matters more than your childish quarry with him, dad. And I hope you forgave him for calling you a mudblood, mom. Because I know he risked his life to save yours. And mine. And I know he'll never forgive himself for it."

He looked up and around him. There was a low murmur of voices coming from somewhere very far, and the wind had begun blowing softly. It was getting hard to see, with the sun setting quickly on the horizon.

"I'm going after him. I'm going to fight for him until either he gives in or I can't go on. I hope if we do get together, my friends accept him, if anything else, because he's so important to me. And I hope you do too. So wish me luck."

He smiled again before disapparating, appearing again right outside Hogwarts gates. They'd been enchanted to recognize him for the night, after he left the school looking for Severus, and they opened as he approached. With a flick of his wand, he transfigured his normal clothes into his costume - for the night, he'd be Count Dracula, though very cliché, also very easy to arrange, as he wasn't willing to, or even able to, waste too many efforts in the search for a better costume.

The Great Hall was already crowded when he arrived, and though some heads turned when he walked in, nobody seemed to recognize him immediately, as the room was very dark, with only some floating pumpkin candles floating on the edges of the room. He walked around looking for the Headmistress, and found her standing by the punch bowl, making sure the anti-spiking spells were working properly and chatting with Flitwick.

"Hello, Headmistress." He smiled at her, and she took a second to recognize him.

"Potter! I'm so glad you could make it!"

He spent a few minutes talking to them before walking around the room, checking the children's costumes and eagerly looking for Severus in the crowd. The Potions Master was nowhere to be found, and after about an hour, the musical act started, some rock band wizard kids enjoyed and that sent most of them to the dance floor. He giggled as an older girl pulled him by the hand and they danced together for several minutes before he excused himself, saying he needed a drink.

As he turned away from the girl, he saw the person he was looking for. Severus was standing in a dark corner, arms crossed over his chest, watching Harry so intensely the boy was surprised he hadn't felt it before. A shiver ran down his spine and he took a deep breath as he made his way to the older man, who didn't move an inch as he observed his steps.

"Hello, Professor." He said politely, unsure how to talk to him.

"Good night, Potter."

"Enjoying the party?"

"Not at all. You, on the other hand, seem to be having fun." There was an undeniable note of jealousy in his voice.

Harry smiled. "It's not bad. You should really give it a chance for a change."

"No, thank you." He replied looking away, scanning the room for students to punish. He didn't notice the boy approach until he felt the weight of the hand on his shoulder and the whisper that sent shivers down his spine.

"Not even if I ask you to dance?"

He took a moment to reply, trying to clear his head. "I have responsibilities. Excuse me." He asked walking away, and Harry rolled his eyes.

It took the boy another hour to have a chance to talk to the Potions Master, between being constantly pulled into the dance floor by one girl or the other - and a couple of boys as well, with whom he danced equally, despite the odd looks it gained him -, and trying to keep hydrated. When the band on stage decided to slow things down a little with some romantic songs, he managed to slip away from the students chasing after him and walked around the edges of the room, looking for Severus.

He found plenty of partially-concealed couple making out in the corners, but after going around the whole room, there was still no sign of the man he was searching for. He decided to go outside for a while, hoping the cold air would help him ratiocinate better and figure out the best approach to convince Severus to give him a chance.

The silence outside felt oppressive at first, coming out from such a loud room, and he got distracted for a moment by the low ringing in his ears. As he walked down the front steps silently, getting rid of the cape tied around his neck and the pointy teeth which were starting to bother him, he let his eyes wander around and remembered the many times he'd snuck out with Ron and Hermione. It took him far less time than he'd expected to find the Potions Master, who was a few yards away punishing a couple who presumably had been enjoying the evening in what the professor considered less-than-adequate ways. He smiled as he heard the couple trying to make excuses, losing a few more points for their houses before rushing back inside, barely noticing him as they passed.

"Maybe you could go a little easier on them, you know. It's Halloween, after all."

"All they need is to get away with it a single time to think they can get away with anything." Severus replied without looking at Harry, walking the perimeter of the castle where he'd certainly find more students to punish.

"Do you really think so? They weren't even doing anything wrong, Snape." His tone was playful, as was the smile drawn on his lips as the followed the older man.

"They are just children, Potter. They shouldn't be engaging in such behavior."

"Yeah, right." He snorted, gaining a frown. "You can punish them all you want and they'll still keep doing it. And they're not children, they're teenagers, you can't expect anything less."

"They might be teenagers, but there are plenty of children in this school who do not need to be exposed to such behavior."

"I suppose you have a point."

"Of course I- Hey! You two! Ten points from each of you and detention with me!" He pointed his lit wand to a couple a few feet ahead, who seemed very surprised as they tried to cover their bare chests with their hands. "Go on! To your dorms! And don't let me catch you again or I'll make you very sorry for it!" He added, sneering as the two teenagers grabbed the clothes once abandoned on the ground and ran away.

"You have far too much pleasure doing this." Harry commented, amused.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter."

The boy just smiled and they continued to walk in silence.

"Do you regret it?" Harry asked after several minutes.

"Regret what?"

"What we did that night. Being with me."

"Potter, I-"

"I know why you don't want us to be together. I sort of understand it, really. But that's not what I asked you. I just want to know if you regret it or not. Because it was one of the best experiences in my life, and I'd hate to know you somehow blame yourself for it, or worse, feel disgusted by what we did."

"I don't feel disgusted." He replied quietly, stopping by a wall and leaning his back against it, avoiding the green eyes staring at him.

"But you regret it?"

"I... Shouldn't have done it. You're just a child, I had no right."

"I'm not a child. And I wanted it too."

"But it was my responsibility-"

"So you do blame yourself?" He asked, and didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Is it because of my mom? I know you loved her-"

"My feelings for you have nothing to do with her."

"You have feelings for me, then?" He asked with a smile.

"I- That's not the point here, Potter." He said firmly, shaking his head slightly to put his thoughts in order. "The point is, what happened between us will never happen again, and that's the end of it."

"Why don't I get a say in it? I love you, and I want to be with you. And I know you like me at least a little bit, so why can't you give me a chance?"

"I thought you said you knew my reasons."

"Well, I... I do. You think you're too old for me, too damaged. You think I'm confused and I don't know what I really want so you'd be taking advantage of me. You think I only want you now because you won't let me have you, and that as soon as you do, I'll find someone else and leave you without a second thought."

"There you have it, then." He replied uncomfortably.

"I know it's scary. I know how hurt you've been, especially with what happened with my mom. But I promise you, Snape, I'll do everything I can to keep you from hurting again."

"You say that now, but you'll have changed your mind in no time. Trust me, Potter, that's how it always go. And I'm not stupid enough to believe different."

"It's not how it always goes." He said quietly. "I can't promise you I'll never hurt you, because I'm not very good with relationships. But I'll try my best. And I promise I'll always be honest with you, okay? I would never lie to you, or do stuff behind your back. You're too important for me to do any of it."

"I... I can't take that chance, Potter." He said simply, his eyes studying his shoes.

Harry spent long moments watching the other man. He respected his reasons, and he was equally afraid of getting involved. He was certain that, given time, Severus would grow bored of him and his childishness, and would leave him behind. But he was also certain that, even if that were to happen, it would be worth it having his heart broken if it meant he got to be with the man he loved.

The seconds passed and he knew the moment wouldn't last. If he didn't do anything, Severus would walk away and who knew how long it would take for them to meet again. So he made up his mind, and all hesitance left him as he took a step closer and, in a single, fluid motion, lifted Severus's chin slightly and kissed his lips softly.

The vortex of emotions and sensations the Potions Master had tried so hard to suffocate came out with full power, wiping away any rational thought from his mind as he grabbed Harry's face with both hands, kissing him back, before inverting their positions and pressing the boy against the cold stone wall a little harder than necessary, making him lose his breath. They broke the kiss to breathe for a few moments, but as if attracted by magnetic forces, their lips met again and again, until they were both flushed and panting.

"I can't do this, Potter." Severus whispered, his forehead resting against Harry's and his eyes closed.

"I want you to." He asked gently, one hand caressing the Potions Master's cheek. "Forget what everyone else will say. Forget you're older than me, and all the bad things you did in the past. Think about what's happening now. I... I'm just someone who loves you, and wants to be with you. And you're someone who wants to be with me as well."

"I..." He hesitated, their lips brushing against one another's as they spoke.

"Please... Severus..." The name sounded like a caress, and washed away any trace of reason left in their minds.

Before they knew what was happening, they'd kissed again and were walking hand in hand back to the front doors. As they opened it, they heard voices, and a guilty look shared later, they let go and put on the most serious faces they could muster. The ball was coming to an end, and groups of students were leaving the Great Hall. It didn't take any words for them to know what to do next, as Severus headed into the hall to finish fulfilling his duties and Harry headed to the man's office, from where he took the fireplace to the cottage.

The Potions Master arrived nearly half an hour later, and found Harry napping on the couch. He smiled at himself; he'd seen how demanding the students had been and didn't expect any less. He also took a moment to process everything that had happened, and come to terms with the fact that now they were together. A warm feeling rose from his stomach, widening his smile, and suddenly all his excuses seemed invalid if compared with the pure joy he was feeling.

Severus approached the couch silently and carefully picked Harry up, trying not to wake him. But the boy opened his eyes and giggled as he found himself in the man's arms, before holding him by the neck and kissing his lips. When they broke the kiss and their eyes, darkened with lust, met, he couldn't help but smile. They were in for a long night.

When Harry woke up the next morning, he was alone in the bed. Without opening his eyes, he stretched an arm and felt only the cold sheets where a man should've been lying, and he feared the events were repeating themselves. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes, searching for the glasses left on the nightstand and, once things went back into focus, he looked around him. To his surprise, a small tray was floating by the foot of the bed, holding his breakfast.

After the worry about being left again was gone, the rational part of his brain told him professors were required to remain in the castle during the day, which probably justified Severus's absence. Once he was done eating, he took a long shower, only then realizing it was almost noon already. He spent most of the afternoon trying to work on the essays due the following week, but his mind kept taking him back to what had happened, and he wasted long minutes staring at nothing with a big smile on his lips.

It was already dark when Severus returned, and Harry promptly greeted him with a kiss, which threatened to take them much further. But the boy had something else in mind, and broke the contact, looking the Potions Master in the eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He offered. He wasn't sure how the novelties were being processed, and wanted to make sure no bad ideas were forming in Severus's head.

"I... Believe we should." He replied with a sigh, guiding them to the couch. "What are we doing here, Potter?"

"Harry." He corrected. "Call me Harry."

"Harry." He said softly, smiling.

"I... I'd like to believe we're dating now." His cheeks acquired a soft shade of pink.

"Is that what you want?" The boy nodded. "Are you sure? You can still-"

"I want to be with you, and only you." He replied seriously. "So stop making up excuses for why we shouldn't be together when we both want to. I know exactly what I'm doing, and I'm doing exactly what I want to."

Severus couldn't help but smile, his heart leaping of joy. "Thank you." He whispered before kissing the man before him.

It didn't take long for Harry to move back to the cottage - after all, he already spent most of his free time there anyway -, and for them to establish a routine. They hadn't really discussed about turning their relationship public, but Harry wasn't worried about it at all, and made it very clear they were together the very first night they went out for dinner. It naturally became a first-page scandal in the next day's Daily Prophet, and Rita Skeeter's article made them laugh for several minutes as they attempted to get to the end of it.

On one side, Harry had to stand Hermione's lecture for not telling her first-hand, and on the other, McGonagall scolded Severus for making her find it out through the paper. The two women were accepting of their relationship - one more than the other -, but the rest of Harry's friends weren't as supportive. Ron refused to talk to him for a couple of weeks, Molly lectured him on Severus being too old and a bad influence, Neville still trembled in fear of the man, and asked repeatedly if Harry was sure about his relationship, and Ginny threw a tantrum and refused to speak to him ever again. Not that it bothered him that much. Luna was the only one who didn't object, even though half of the time Harry wasn't sure she actually knew what was going on.

All in all, by Winter Break it'd become old news and most of Harry's friends, if not supporting, at least respected his relationship with Severus.

Harry chose to spend the holidays at Hogwarts - naturally, after spending a short while at the Burrow, or Molly would have his head on a plate for dinner -, and though he spent the night at the castle, this time around it was in a room far below the Gryffindor dorms. He was surprised to see even more children staying over, but Severus explained to him the ones who stayed the previous year had told the others about his appearance, and hence a bigger legion of fans stayed behind to try and meet him.

As January came to an end, it was time to visit Lily's grave again. Severus hadn't told her about his relationship with Harry, but somehow felt that she not only knew, but approved. And that James (and Sirius) would be turning in his grave with anger, which always made him smile.

That time, Harry was there as well.

Because Severus invited him.

"You never forget to come." Harry said smiling, watching the Potions Master arrange the flowers. He asked why the other man bought them instead of conjuring them, and though he explained, Severus wasn't sure they boy understood completely.

"Never." He replied quietly, returning the smile.

"You forgot my birthday." He pretended to be hurt, but when Severus looked up again, he was grinning. "Both of them, since I started living with you."

"Just because you kids have vacations from school, it doesn't mean us professors have nothing to do. I was busy. And I apologized."

"I know."

"Then why are you bringing it up?"

"I was just thinking. You also keep forgetting our dates."

"I'm a busy man, Potter."

"But you always make time to visit my mom."

"Your point is?"

He smiled, walking to where the other man was and putting his arms around him. "No point." He whispered in the Potions Master's ear. "I love you, Severus."

_**Finis**_


End file.
